Time of Trial
by The Mutant Jinx
Summary: When Elyon Ryder, a.k.a. Sting, encounters two mutants in Boston, she is forced onto one wild ride. Will she finally have a place to call "home"? Rated T for language, violence, alcohol references, mature themes and some sensuality.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **_This is my first post-film X-Men fic. I have a few things I want to clarify.

**OCs: **Sting/Elyon Ryder and Cognitia/Bella Robertson are _my characters_. You cannot use them without my permission.

**Nightcrawler's appearance: **Yes, I do take much of his appearance from the comics. This is because I just like comic-book Nightcrawler. Also, while Alan Cumming is perfectly adorable, comic-book Nightcrawler is just…wow. He's pretty hot. And yes, I'm aware that I'm a freak.

**Genres: **This is like supernatural/action/adventure/spiritual/suspense/f riendship/romance sort of thing. If you get confused, don't say I didn't warn you.

_**Disclaimer: **_The X-Men and all related characters and names are owned by Marvel Comics and partner companies. All copyrights associated with the X-Men belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

That being said…enjoy!

* * *

_Adaptation. Without it, mankind could not survive. It allows us to be resourceful and prepared for a majority of obstacles. However, on occasion, survival is the responsibility of the individual._

**1. CONDEMNED**

_BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS — THE NOT TOO DISTANT FUTURE_

The first thing I noticed when I entered was the smell. The scent of melted cheese, cooked vegetables and assorted meats assaulted my senses and stunned me for a brief moment. I wasn't stopping at the pizzeria to eat, though. I just needed a place to sit down and recollect myself.

I'd been traveling for two and a half weeks now. After graduating from East Tennessee State University with a bachelor's degree in psychology and a BFA in theatre arts, I'd decided to leave my home of Johnson City and start over. I hadn't managed to settle anywhere yet. I was so vastly different from anyone else, and I hadn't found a community that felt like home.

The dim lighting and incessant chatter of the customers were beginning to make me uneasy, and I leaned over my table, hunching my shoulders in an attempt to block the noise. However, one set of voices succeeded in capturing my attention.

"Please leave me alone," said a female voice. It was soft and mousy, without much authority.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that." That was a male voice, smooth and serpentine.

There was a brief pause. Then a deeper male voice urgently exclaimed, "Hey, man—she's a mutant!"

That made me turn around. A few booths behind me sat a woman who looked to be a few years older than I. Her heart-shaped face had innocent-looking features, and her dark auburn hair fell down past her shoulders in gentle waves. Her pale ivory face was flushed with anger and annoyance as she looked up at the dark-haired man and his blonde friend with steely chocolate brown eyes.

The blonde man slid into the seat beside her. "Well, she's _my _kind of mutant." He was the one who sounded like a snake.

The dark one looked wary. "I'd be careful if I was you, Paul," he cautioned.

The woman glowered at Paul. "I told you to leave me be." Paul just laughed.

I glanced around. No one else was doing anything, nor did they seem to notice; if they did, they were good actors. I decided to take the initiative, and I stood. I walked up to them, anger putting a spring in my step. _Rude low-lives_…

"Hey." My high, slightly husky voice made them turn around. "I thought she told you to leave her alone." Unfortunately, my accent betrayed me. I didn't really think it was much, mostly just the way I pronounced my _I _sounds, and the hard emphasis I placed on _R_'s. It was enough for them, though.

Paul chortled again. "You hearing this, Billy? The little country girl's telling us what to do." He stalked up to me. "You'd better leave. _Now_." A few people turned to watch. I didn't care.

I lifted my head to meet his glare with a blank face, channeling the power coursing in my veins. When he saw my flat black eyes, he started backing away.

"Pain," I said tonelessly.

He froze instantly, his face contorting as the fire moved through him. After a few seconds, he let out a sickening shriek and crumpled into a convulsing heap on the floor. Billy knelt by him. Even after I doused the hallucinatory flames, Paul continued writhing, his wide eyes seeing nothing.

The woman was staring at me. "Damn," she breathed in awe.

All of the customers were staring too, as well as the pizzeria's owner. "Get out of my restaurant, freak," he ordered shakily.

"Gladly." With that, I left, feeling freer than I had in weeks.

As I made my way down the street, I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Hey! Wait up!" I stopped and patiently waited for the auburn-haired woman to catch up to me.

"Yes?" I raised an eyebrow.

She was panting a little. "Thanks for that. What you did back there."

I shrugged. "Don't mention it." Across the street was an old cathedral that looked abandoned. Maybe I could turn in there for the night.

When I heard her voice next, it sounded as though it was inside my head. _'What's your name?' _I turned to her, and she smirked. _'You're not the only one with gifts…' _Her mouth never moved.

I hesitated before answering her question. "I'm Elyon," I said. "Elyon Ryder. People call me Sting."

"Sting." She nodded thoughtfully. "I'm Bella Robertson." She added, _'I call myself Cognitia.'_

"Impressive." The wind was starting to blow my waist-length light brown hair around, so I dug into my pocket and pulled out a white band. I tied my hair into a low ponytail at the nape of my neck. "Wait…how do I know you're not just messing with my head to get me to like you?"

She shuffled her feet. "I don't know how to make people feel things yet," she confessed. Then she studied me intently. "You're twenty-two years old. You're a college graduate, but you still don't know what to do with your life. You've always been considered to be inferior because you're only four-foot-eleven. You feel like you'll never belong anywhere. And you were going to take refuge in the cathedral across the street. Do you mind if I join you?"

I was stunned. "No, not at all."

As we walked over, I could sense her staring at my arms. I rubbed them self-consciously. My hands hovered over the bumpy scars that covered my limbs.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Oh, you know how it is," I answered tensely. "People who know you find out what you are, they try to kill you, the police pretend it didn't happen…"

"Hmm." She was quiet.

There was a graffiti-covered wall in front of the church. One "artwork" read "Nature Laughs Last." Another said in all-capital letters, "DESTROY THE MUTANT THREAT!" Bella inclined her head toward the words and they disintegrated. She was telekinetic too, like me.

There was a sign on one of the double-doors. _Condemned_. Bella turned to me. "Do you think this is such a good idea?"

"You're the telepath. You tell me."

I heard a very faint sound coming from inside. Someone was playing the pipe organ. Overwhelming curiosity led me to reach out with my mind. My psi hands pushed the doors open. Bella and I quickly stepped inside, and she closed the doors behind us. As soon as the door swung to, the music stopped.

Naturally, this frustrated me. "Hello?" I shouted. "Who's in here?"

The place was kind of like what you imagine to be in old-world France and Germany—very gothic, with beautiful stained glass windows, stone floors and the most amazing altar at the far end. It appeared as though it had been in the process of renovation, for some equipment was still lying around. But it was unfinished, as if something had scared them off…

"Elyon!" As Bella wheeled around she hit me with her elbow. "Where'd you go?"

Huh? I looked down at myself. Outlining me was a soft white light, the same light that told me I was invisible. I realized that Bella's hitting me had startled me, causing me to phase into the state. It was relatively easy to go through my brain and make myself visible again, like flipping a light switch in a dark room. "Sorry about that," I apologized.

"Hey, it happens." She shrugged. "But I wanted to tell you that the mental signature of whomever's in here just moved from the organ to the rafters instantaneously."

"Is it good or bad?" I glanced around in a bout of instinctive paranoia.

She frowned. "Dunno. He's multilingual, but right now he's thinking in his first language—German, I think. I don't understand him, but I'm not feeling any malicious vibes. I'm pretty sure we can trust him."

"I know a little German," I offered. "I mean, I can't carry on a conversation or anything, but I know enough to give you a rough interpretation if he talks to us—not in English, of course. Where are you from, anyway?"

"Indiana." Abruptly, she turned to a small archway. "Over there. He's a teleporter. That's how he moves so fast." She started walking over to the archway, and I followed her.

"_Laßt __mich__ in __Ruhe_." The voice was soft and gentle, with that slight musical intonation common in Europeans.

Normally, this would mean "Leave me alone," but given his tone, I figured that this was not the case. I looked up at Bella; her face was seven inches higher than my own. _He says, "Leave me in peace," _I thought.

'_Ask him if he speaks English,' _she said. _'I don't want him to know I've probed his mind.'_

"_Sprechen __Sie __Englisch__?_" I asked as I turned back to the little arch.

The quiet male voice spoke again, low and timid. "Yes."

Bella peered further into the darkness. "Who are you? What's your name?"

There was movement in the shadows. The figure took a few more steps before we actually saw him. He was a young man, probably around my age, and about ten inches taller than I. However, his appearance was far from normal. His black hair stuck up in tousled, curly tufts, and his face was covered in strange, symmetrical scars. His ears were pointed, and his yellow eyes contrasted greatly with his blue skin. His hands had two fingers if one didn't count his thumbs, and a look down revealed that his feet only had two toes. From beneath his black paint-splattered trench coat, a spaded prehensile tail was visible. When he opened his mouth to speak, I saw that he had gleaming white teeth, and that his canines resembled fangs. "My name is Kurt Wagner."

I glanced at Bella. "I'm Bella Robertson," she told him.

Well, she was a telepath, as I'd pointed out earlier. I didn't know her very well, but if she trusted him, then so would I. "I'm Elyon Ryder."

"We need help," Bella went on. "Neither of us is from around here, and we need a place stay where we can be safe."

It appeared as though he'd heard something like that before. "Safe from what?" he asked cautiously.

"Everyone else," I answered with firm conviction.

That seemed to ring a bell with him. Unfortunately, the music of that bell apparently told him to turn and vanish into the room beyond the archway.

"Wait!" Bella started after him. I went with her.

The room was small, with a warm color scheme. A many-ringed candleholder with a few wicks lit stood in front of a crucifix, whose statue of Christ was wonderfully painted. This was at the foot of a little bed that was built into the wall. Adorning the other walls were circus posters bearing words written in both English and German, along with the likeness of the demonic-looking man, Kurt Wagner. Opposite the crucifix was a statue of the Virgin Mary.

Kurt stood near the crucifix, his back to us. "I am sorry." His voice was almost a whisper. "It's just…this reminds me of something that happened last spring. There were two women, and they found me. One of them had red hair, and she was a telepath…I'm sorry." His tail flicked uneasily.

Hesitantly, Bella said, "I…I'm a telepath." When he heard this, he turned to look at us.

"Please, just listen," I implored. "We need you. We're far from our homes, and we need someone like us who can take us somewhere safe. Will you help us?" I hated sounding desperate, but it was the only thing I could do.

His eyes bored into me. The sheer force of them made me flinch. Finally, he said, "I know a place."

I beamed. Bella sighed in relief, "Thank you."

"I must warn you, though," Kurt cut in. "We have to leave quickly, before—"

"Come out with your hands in the air!" This came from outside, and sounded amplified by a bullhorn. Behind it were sirens. Police. Stupid Billy.

I grabbed Bella's shoulders frantically. "Can't you do something? Wipe their minds, change their memories, _anything_?"

She nodded, albeit unsurely. "O-okay. I'll try." She closed her eyes, and her brow furrowed in concentration. It must have taken a lot of effort, for soon, beads of sweat began to dew up on her forehead. Then her eyes opened, and she stumbled back a few feet. "We're safe. They think they were after an armed robber, and that he ran out the doors and down the street."

With that, Bella and I started for the doors. I turned to see Kurt still standing in one place, looking uncertain. "Well, whatcha waiting for, boy?" I said. "Christmas? Come on; let's get this show on the road!"

He grinned a little and came up to us. "I have to tell you," he said sheepishly. "I've never teleported more than one other person before. Also, the farthest I can go is two miles. And I have to be able to see where I'm going."

"That's okay," Bella reassured him. "The important thing is that we'll get there."

He nodded. Then he put his arms around our shoulders and took a deep breath.

If I tried to describe what teleporting was like, I would fail miserably. One moment, we were in the cathedral. The next, we were on the outskirts of town.

I blinked. "Wow. Nifty." The odor of burning brimstone lingered. I coughed.

He laughed jovially. It was actually quite a nice sound. "Okay, _Damen_. Do you have the hang of it?" We both nodded. "All right, then." And then we were off again.

By the time the thin crescent moon was high in the sky, an exhausted Kurt had teleported us to an abandoned alleyway in Manhattan. There was a manhole, so Bella lifted the plate with her powers while Kurt took a breather.

Bella confirmed that there were, indeed, no rats or strange hobos, and we made our way down to rest. We agreed to sleep in shifts. Bella would keep watch first, followed by me and then our unusual companion.

When my turn came around, I managed to stay awake the whole time and then some, so I was a bit surprised when I felt someone's hand on my shoulder. I jumped and swiveled to find a pair of yellow, glowing eyes meeting mine.

"Sorry," Kurt whispered. "Er…you can sleep now, if you want."

I didn't even consider that option. I was far too keyed up. "I think I'll stay awake."

"Okay. That's fine." He was silent for a moment. "You seem tense," he noted. "Is there something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No."

He moved on to another subject. "Are you and Bella good friends, or…?"

"No," I said again. "I only just met her today. I saved her from a couple of jerks down at that little pizza parlor near your cathedral, and she decided to tag along with me. I don't know much about her. One of the guys who attacked her was the dickhead who turned us in."

He appeared to be caught off guard by my use of language.

There was just enough light to throw his scars into definition. I had to ask about them. "Your scars…what…" My voice trailed off.

He'd probably had to explain this before. "They are symbols that were given to mortals by Gabriel, the archangel of humanity. They match in number my sins."

So he'd done them himself, then. I smiled, though it pained me. "I wish the people who gave me mine had been as considerate." I touched the marks on my arms.

His gaze followed my gesture. "Are you angry with the world?"

"For what?"

"For taking such a long time to learn tolerance," he said. "I know that upsets me sometimes."

I smirked. "Angry? Nah, not at all. Impatient? Hell, yeah."

He seemed bewildered. "You know, for someone who looks so little and sweet, you're awfully—"

"Crude?" I finished. "I get that a lot."

I could just barely see him frown. "I was going to say 'honest.' You don't care what people say. You don't care what they think of you. As long as you can be yourself, you're happy. That's a rare quality. I consider it admirable."

"Really? Thanks." I yawned, suddenly sleepy. "I'm going to hit the hay." I laid down on my side, my back to Bella. "G'night, Kurt."

"_Gute Nacht, meine kleine Freundin._" He'd called me his friend. I had a friend.

With that reassuring thought, I let myself drift.

* * *

The next morning, Bella went to McDonald's to get breakfast for the three of us. For starters, she blended in better than Kurt did. Secondly, she was less susceptible than I to lose her temper and give someone whiplash or arthritis or severe lifelong mental and emotional trauma. I'd offered to give her some of the money my parents had entrusted me with before I left, as I had well over two hundred dollars, but then she showed me her wallet. I wasn't sure how much was in there, but I was shocked into silence.

We sat on the ground in the alley while we waited. Kurt leaned against the back wall with his knees curled against his chest. He was almost fully recuperated. Now he just needed food.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I saw the tip of his tail hovering over it. "Excuse me for asking, Miss Ryder," he said. "But…what are your powers?" His tone held an innocent curiosity, out of place for a grown man.

"Trust me," I said, "you don't want to know. And call me Elyon."

"Elyon," he repeated. "'God most high.' Why would I not want to know?"

I hesitated. "Do you know…hellfire?" I queried reluctantly.

"Yes," he answered. "The hottest flame, reserved for the punishment of the damned."

"I…I can make people feel that," I said, my voice nearly silent from guilt and self-distaste. "I make them feel hellfire, except in their bloodstream. Or, at least, I can make them _think _they're feeling it. I give the illusion of any kind of pain, really. You name it—if it hurts, I make you believe you're experiencing it." Suddenly aware that I was holding my breath, I exhaled. "I take away feeling, too. Feeling, smell, taste, hearing, sight. All the senses. I don't know which is worse. Being in total agony and knowing you're alive, or knowing nothing and being scared to death." I closed my eyes. "I'm also telekinetic. And—"

Just then, I heard something.

Footsteps.

Instinctively, I grabbed Kurt's wrist and phased into invisibility.

A man wandered into the alley a little ways before looking frustrated. He left, muttering something about how he could have _sworn_ he'd heard someone talking.

Relieved, I released the hold I had on my concealment and Kurt's wrist.

"You can turn invisible without shadows?" he inquired in a tone full of awe.

"Mm-hmm." I wondered what was so special about that.

"_Phantastisch_," he murmured. It wasn't a big deal to me, but it must have been to him. "I can only do that in the dark."

Imagine that. "So, let me have a framework. You can teleport, turn invisible in shadow, and I assume that you see in the dark." That would explain the luminescence of his eyes last night.

"Yes." He smiled beatifically. "I can climb on walls, too. And your dominant ability is inducing pain, so what do they call you?"

I decided that now I trusted him, even without Bella's guarantee. "My family used to call me Sting."

"Hmm…'Sting.' It suits you." He looked thoughtful. "And Miss Robertson?"

"Bella's Cognitia." But I still didn't know what he was called. "What about you?"

He straightened up with an air of Errol Flynn-like confidence. "I'm Nightcrawler."

"Nice," I commended. "So, Nightcrawler, where exactly are you taking us?"

"A mansion in New York's countryside," Bella said, coming down the alley with the take-out bags. "Westchester County, to be precise. Here you go." She handed us the bags. The smell of fast food wafted up to me, and I had to work hard to not gorge myself.

"Is it a nice place?" I asked Kurt.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward a bit, like he was having a fond memory of a friend. "It is very nice. I think you will like it there." He finished his McGriddle and moved on to the potato rounds.

"Do you plan on staying there with us?" Bella was halfway through her own bag. I had three potato rounds left.

Kurt glanced up as he considered that. "I don't know. I might. But the people there live a rather violent life, and the telepath I told you about…died back in the spring. But I do miss them, and the way things are right now, it wouldn't be a bad idea to go back. So, maybe."

We were quiet for the rest of breakfast.

That afternoon we were in Bedford. Bella went to get lunch, leaving me and Nightcrawler alone again.

"Hey, Kurt," I said, turning to him. He was perched on the wall, flaunting his ability and looking happy as a clam. He craned his neck to look at me. "What part of Germany are you from, anyway?"

"Bavaria," he said. "Near Munich. And where are you from?"

"East Tennessee." I knew the next topic was probably sensitive, but I shifted to it anyway. "How did you end up here?"

He waited a few seconds before replying. "I was in the circus in Munich. But there were a few…complications, so I quit. After that, some…eh…serious issues came up, and I snuck onto a cargo ship that was headed for Boston. What about you?"

"I was in college," I told him. "Some people found out…what I am, and these happened." I gestured to my arms. "My parents have been helping to fund my little escapades. So, nothing exciting like your story."

He was silent for a moment. Then he took something out of his pocket. A Rosary. He didn't pray with it, though. He just held it, like it was a comfort blanket.

Suddenly, he disappeared in a contracting cloud of navy blue smoke, and where the air rushed together where his body had been, it made a kind of clapping sound which, if spelled phonetically, could only be described as _bamf_. He was sitting on the ground next to me in less than a second.

"Show-off," I muttered. He chuckled blithely.

"You have great faith in others," he observed. "But not much in yourself."

"What?" Confusion colored my tone.

He turned his face down, abashed. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to pry. It's not my place to make that assumption."

"No, it's fine," I consoled him. "And now that I think about it, you're right. Due to my…past experiences, I probably trust people like us too easily. But I don't trust myself." I felt slightly defensive. "There's a good reason for that. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little bit unstable."

He frowned. "I think you can be trusted."

"Thanks," I murmured. "Still, I'd be careful if I were you." I watched as he turned his Rosary over in his hands, and I sighed. "You know, Kurt…" My voice trailed off as I thought of the best way to word this.

"_Ja__?_" He turned back to me. Even though we were sitting, I had to look up at him.

"I wish I could be like you," I confided. "No matter what it is that's happened to you, you still believe. I always wonder if God would have let those people hurt me." I rubbed my arms. "And yet…I can't help but feel like there _is _something out there."

His expression was solemn. "I know it can be hard, but do you know how I keep faith?"

I shook my head.

He half-smiled. "No matter what it is that's happened—whether someone close has turned on me, or if I'm being chased by an angry mob with torches and pitchforks—I remind myself that I'm still here."

Bella came down the alley with lunch then. She tripped over her own feet, and it was in this way that Kurt and I learned that she was very clumsy. What was even more laughable was that Kurt was very graceful, and according to Bella I moved with a lithe, light-footed air (as she put it, I "ghosted along"). The comparison was hilarious.

By that evening, we were on the driveway of a large mansion in Salem Center, Westchester. Though Kurt had promised that we'd like it here, I couldn't help but wonder if it was entirely safe.

'_It's fine,' _Bella said. _'Perfectly safe. Come on.' _She started forward. Kurt and I walked behind her.

I had a wager in mind. "Do you know a lot about psychology, Kurt?"

"_Nein._" He appeared as if he hadn't the faintest idea where I was going with this. I didn't blame him.

"I'll teach you about that if you teach me faith," I offered.

He furrowed his brow. "Alright…but one cannot teach faith. That is something you must find yourself."

I scowled. How unfair.

"I could teach you to dance," he suggested.

I deliberated upon that for just a moment. I'd always wanted to learn to dance, but due to my "problems," I'd never been able to. "Okay," I agreed. "Deal."

We came upon a closed gate, with two pillars serving as vanguard.

"I'll go inside and let them know I'm here," Kurt said. With that, he teleported away.

Bella closed her eyes, probably using her telepathy to see what was happening.

Something on the pillar to my right caught my eye. Turning my attention to it, I saw that it was a plaque with a stylized X in the center, and words circling it.

XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ So, there's your first taste of what's to come. There isn't much to say about this. I just hope that you're unable to guess the rest of the plot. If you can't, then I'm doing my job right.

German translations are as follows:

"_Laßt__ mich in __Ruhe__._" — "Leave me alone." In context, however, Kurt means "Leave me in peace."

"_Damen_" — "ladies"

"_Gute Nacht, meine kleine Freundin._" — "Good night, my little friend." _Die __Freundin_is the feminine form of "friend," which is _der_ _Freund_.

"_phantastisch_" — "fantastic"

"_ja__/nein_" — "yes/no" (if you didn't already know that, then shame on you)

_Rezensiert__, __bitte__! _(Review, please!)

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	2. Chapter 2

**2. SANCTUARY**

Approximately one minute and twelve seconds later, Kurt returned for us. Wordlessly, he held out his hands. Bella and I each took one, and he teleported us into the mansion.

We ended up in a large foyer. The walls were covered in dark wood paneling and old paintings in gilt frames that matched the little tables and vases. There were two big staircases, each with a doorway underneath. Straight ahead was a wide hallway. Also adorning the walls were lanterns, and down the halls to either side were tiled floors and potted plants. I looked down and saw that we stood on an oriental carpet.

Nice.

Bella grinned at me. I could tell now that she was a lot more comfortable with me than I was with her.

I heard footsteps, and I looked at the staircase to the right. Coming down them was a man. I assumed he was a little taller than Bella, whom I figured was five-six. His brown hair flipped up against the sides of his head, like it had been windblown every day for sixty years, though he couldn't be older than his late twenties or early thirties. Thick sideburns framed his jaw line. The short sleeves of his gray t-shirt revealed muscular arms. I was instantly intimidated.

When he spoke, it was with a gruff, cynical tone. "I see we're finally worthy of a visit from the Incredible Nightcrawler," he smirked. His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and his dark eyes glinted.

Kurt smiled. "It's good to see you, Logan," he said. "And I'm not visiting."

"Really?" The man called Logan raised an eyebrow when we came into his attention. "Who're your friends?"

"I met them in Boston just yesterday," Kurt explained. "They needed a place to stay, so I brought them here."

Bella held out her hand, and Logan shook it. "I'm Bella Robertson," she introduced herself. "Cognitia."

Logan nodded, and held his hand out for me.

"I'm Elyon Ryder," I said. I shook his hand. "People call me Sting."

"Well, that's quite a grip you got there, Sting," Logan quipped, pulling his arm back. "I'm Logan—Wolverine."

"Where's the Professor?" Kurt asked suddenly.

"In his office," Wolverine replied. "You should probably know, though—he doesn't exactly look like himself."

Kurt glanced around. "What about Mr. Summers?"

Logan was hesitant to respond. "Scott is…no longer with us. We would have told you sooner, but we didn't know how to get a hold of you."

Kurt's eyes widened. "When? What happened?"

"Last summer," said Logan. "I'll explain later." He looked at Bella and me again. "Come on. You two should meet the Professor."

I heard more footsteps, this time a light pitter-patter near the top of the stairs. I glanced up to see a young woman standing there, who looked about my age. Her pale, heart-shaped face was framed with long, dark brown hair, and accented by big blue eyes and full lips. A red cloak swirled down to her feet as she eyed me skeptically. Just then, a young man appeared beside her, dressed in blue. His features were very similar to hers, with the only real differences being found in his taller stature and cropped white hair.

"Who are they?" I wondered aloud.

Wolverine followed my gaze. "That's Wanda Maximoff and her twin brother Pietro," he said. "The Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. They got here a few hours before you. They don't talk much." He started down the wide hallway. I assumed we were to follow him.

As we walked down the hall, Kurt inquired, "Where is Marie?"

"Gone," Logan stated simply. "She visits monthly."

"The cure?" Kurt guessed.

"You bet," Logan said icily.

I remembered that. Last summer, the pharmaceuticals department of Worthington Industries had manufactured a "cure" for the mutant gene. There had been major controversy as a result, and a mutant revolt stormed Alcatraz Island, where the factory making the vaccine was located in what used to be the prison. They were led by Magneto, who'd ended up cured himself. But before production halted, quite a few mutants had gone to receive the shot. I inferred this Marie was one of them.

We reached a set of double-doors. "Come in," said an older, yet powerful, man's voice.

"Like I said," Logan muttered to Kurt. "I'll explain later." With that, he threw the doors open. "Hey, Chuck."

Inside the office, which matched the hall, was a tall, middle-aged man. His wise face was complimented by a bald head and dark eyes. He walked up to us slowly. "Hello, Elyon," he said to me. "Hello, Bella. I'm Professor Charles Xavier." He spoke with a British accent.

Kurt looked surprised, but he didn't say anything.

"You need a place to stay. Is that correct?" Xavier raised an eyebrow.

Bella nodded. "Yes. Do you mind at all?"

"Of course not." Xavier smiled warmly. "Due to last year's incident, we have a few spare rooms. Kurt, your old room has remained vacant."

"Thank you, Professor," Kurt said, still a bit in shock.

The corners of Wolverine's mouth turned down a bit. "They don't really have much, Charles."

"I'll ask Ororo to go with them to get their necessities in the morning," said Xavier.

Bella turned around. I followed her gaze. A young girl, probably only seventeen, came through the doors. She was about two inches taller than I. Her dark brown tresses were tangled with sleep, and around her neck was a silver-tone pendant of the Star of David. She looked up and beamed, her hazel eyes sparkling.

"Kurt!" she exclaimed. She bolted forward and rammed into Kurt, locking her arms around him and nearly bowling him over.

He laughed a little breathlessly. "Easy there, Kitty. Don't kill me." He returned the embrace.

"I missed you so much," the girl named Kitty said.

"I missed you too, _Kätzchen_," Kurt replied.

"Pryde!" Logan raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

Kitty pulled away from Kurt and looked Logan straight in the eye. "I _was_. But I woke up."

Logan snorted. "I can see that," he said. I stifled a giggle.

My snicker attracted her attention. "Oh, hey!" She came up to us. "I didn't notice you before. Sorry. I'm Kitty Pryde." She held out her hand.

Bella shook her hand. "I'm Bella Robertson."

Kitty offered her hand to me. Remembering Logan's comment, I grasped it carefully. She looked almost as fragile as I did. "Elyon. Elyon Ryder."

She smiled—people did that a lot here. "It's nice to meet you. Both of you," she expressed.

"Perhaps you should go on up to bed, Kitty," Xavier interjected. "You have a history test tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah." She started for the doors before turning on her heel and addressing Kurt. "You'll be here in the morning, right?" Her face was suddenly serious.

"Of course," Kurt answered.

"Good." Kitty's expression was cheerful again. "I'll see you guys in the morning."

"See ya, Half-Pint," said Logan. Kitty wrinkled her nose.

Kurt waved, a gesture that Kitty returned. Then Kitty sprinted through the door, literally; she went through the solid wood as if she were intangible. I stared after her, amazed.

Xavier turned to me. "I think you'll find you fit in quite well here, Miss Ryder," he said. "Logan." He directed his attention to Wolverine, who had also watched Kitty go. "If you would show our new friends to their rooms."

"Sure thing, Charles." Logan turned on his heel with precision to rival an army general and opened the doors. As he walked out, we followed.

"I'll see you in the morning," Xavier called after us. A guarantee. I liked that.

As we ascended the stairs, Kurt, who walked in front of us with Logan, looked at him and started, "What—"

"Like I said, Elf," Logan interrupted. I chuckled inwardly at what was apparently Kurt's nickname. "Later. We wouldn't wanna confuse the newbies."

Too bad. I was already confused.

I heard Bella laugh in my head when she caught the snarky thought.

We stopped at the far end of the third-floor hallway. "These two rooms are yours," Logan said to Bella and me. "Take your pick. Elf—"

"I know where my own room is, Logan." Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm not a _total_ idiot." His tone was bright with friendly banter. He started down the hall. "I'll see you all in the morning."

"See ya, Kurt," I responded. We watched as he went down the hall and into the room at the opposite end.

Logan rubbed his hands together, and I imagine he was slightly uncomfortable. "So," he said. "Make yourselves at home." With that, he half-waved and headed downstairs. Bella went into the room second-closest to the far wall, leaving me with the one at the very end.

I closed the door behind me once I was inside. "Home," I repeated. Never before had that word seemed more appropriate.

My front pocket vibrated and Steve Perry sang, "_Strangers waiting up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night…_" I grabbed my phone and checked the caller ID. It was my mother, Jen.

I unlocked it and held it up to my ear. "Hello?"

"_Ellie, sweetie, thank goodness!_" I imagined how Jen would hold her blond hair against the side of her head with her hand, her gray eyes wide with relief. "_I tried calling earlier, but it went straight to your voicemail._"

"Sorry," I apologized automatically. After twenty years of speaking to people, I was still doing that. "I must not have had signal."

"_Where are you?_"

Uh-oh. "Um…well, I'm not entirely sure." Three, two, one…

"_Elyon Layne._" Her tone was condescending, _and _she used my middle name. "_Where are you?_"

I exhaled deeply. "I'm…at a school. A boarding house-type school, like _Madeline_." I used the knowledge I'd pieced together from the plaque and Kitty Pryde. "And it's a school for people like me—mutants. I'm with other mutants!" There was no disguising my enthusiasm.

"_That's great, honey._" She sounded happy for me. I pictured my father, Tom, sitting in his recliner with an issue of _Cigar Aficionado_, his graying brown hair rumpled as he gazed at Jen with interested blue eyes. "_Is it nice?_"

It wasn't until she asked that I truly took note of my surroundings. The solid maple furniture was contemporary, and the walls were the color of terra-cotta. The bedding and the plush chair in the corner near the window were of a calming grass green, which matched the long curtains. The pale hardwood floor reflected the light from the streamlined ceiling fan light that I'd turned on reflexively with my mind. "Oh, yeah. It's very nice."

"_Would you like to talk to your father?_" Jen asked.

"Sure." I hadn't spoken to him in a while.

There was a pause on the other end before I heard Tom's bass voice. "_Hey, Pookie._"

My mouth screwed up with embarrassment, even though I was alone. "Hi, Papa."

"_Your mom says you're at a nice place,_" he said matter-of-factly. "_How long do you think you'll visit there?_"

I thought for a moment. "Actually, I think I might stay here a while," I confessed.

"_Oh. Do you need us to bring your things there?_" He didn't seem offended. In fact, I'd say that he was glad I'd found a place.

"Sure, Papa," I said. "That'd be perfect."

"_What's the address?_" Great. The one question I didn't know the answer to.

Just then, an address popped up in my head. I repeated the number to Tom, who repeated it to my mother, who was probably writing it down. _Thank you, _I thought.

'_No problem,' _Bella's voice chimed.

"_All right,_" Tom affirmed. "_We'll be up there in a couple days. Just hang tight until then, okay?_"

"Okay," I agreed. "I love you, Papa."

"_I love you, too, Elyon. Here's your mom._"

Once again, there was a short pause. Then my mother said, "_So, are you excited?_"

I was honest with her. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm pretty excited."

"_Okay. Well, we'll see you soon, 'kay? I love you._"

"I love you, too, Mama."

"_Goodnight, Ellie._"

"Goodnight, Mama." With that, I hung up. I put the phone on top of the dresser, kicked off my shoes, and climbed into the large bed.

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but think that Forrest Gump's mama had been right. "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

* * *

I bolted upright in the bed, panting and sweating. My arms felt like they'd been pierced with millions of tiny stiletto blades. I'd had the nightmare again.

As I wiped perspiration from my brow with the back of my hand, I heard Bella's voice. _'Are you okay?'_

I jumped. _Why are you awake?_

'_Sorry. I was homed in on your thoughts before I went to sleep, so I caught your distress. Are you feeling alright?' _Her tone was that of a caring friend, or a concerned sibling.

_Yeah, _I thought. _I'm fine. _My throat ached dryly. _Where's the kitchen? I need some water._

A virtual tour-like image played in my head, showing me which way to go.

_Thanks._

'_No problem.'_

Very quietly, I got out of bed and glanced at the clock. It was three-thirty in the morning. Silently, I crept over to the door. I phased into invisibility, turned the knob and slipped out into the hall. From there, I followed Bella's guide and found the kitchen in no time.

I dropped my concealment and browsed through the dark cabinets to find a glass. When I located one, I took it over to the sink and filled it with water.

Just as I was shutting off the faucet, a voice said, "Why are you awake?" The new voice was obviously female, and very soft, with the slightest hint of an Eastern European accent. I turned to see the dark-haired woman from my entry of the mansion, Wanda Maximoff.

I stiffened, my muscles rigid with caution. "Um…I had a nightmare." I took a small sip of water.

Wanda's azure eyes reflected sympathy. "I'm sorry." Her English was probably better than Kurt's, I decided, at least a little bit.

"What about you?" I asked her.

"I felt a scared vibe," she said. "I'm guessing that was you."

"More than likely," I agreed. We were silent for a moment.

Then she said, "What was your nightmare about?"

I didn't know how to answer. I stuck with, "Just some stuff from my past."

"Oh." She tilted her head a little to meet my lowered gaze. "Was it about those scars on your arms?"

I held onto the edge of the blue-tiled island in the middle of the kitchen. "Yeah."

"How did—"

I was gripping the counter so tightly, my knuckles went white. "Please." I squeezed my eyes shut. "I don't want to talk about it." In fact, it was torture just thinking about it. Remembering that awful night, with darkness and knives and malicious laughter as my bloodcurdling screams rang out…

"Oh," Wanda said again, shaking me from the images. "I understand."

We were quiet again.

I straightened up, washed the glass in the sink, dried it off and put it away. "Okay," I said, clearing my throat. "Well, goodnight." I started out to the stairs.

"Goodnight," Wanda murmured.

Then I went back up to my room to try to sleep.

* * *

The next time I woke up, it was at nine-thirty in the morning, to knuckles rapping on the door. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Come in."

The door opened, and a gorgeous woman of African descent entered. She had that exotic sort of beauty, with dark eyes and high cheekbones. Her hair was the same blazing white as her blouse, and it fell to her shoulders. She held a large shopping bag in her hand. "Elyon?" she said in a low, smooth voice. "I'm Ororo Munroe."

The name "Ororo" rang a rather large bell. "Oh, yeah," I said. "Professor Xavier mentioned you last night."

She shrugged, which led me to assume that she was fairly modest. "I went out to get some things with your friend Bella," she informed me. "She told me that you had an uneasy night, so I let you sleep in." She held up the bag. "Don't worry, though. She told me what kinds of things you like."

I wasn't sure what sentiments to give. "Um…thanks."

Ororo set the bag down. "No need to thank me." Then she smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

I rose to my feet and inspected the bag. Bella had gotten everything right. The clothes were mostly simple, with a hint of Audrey Hepburn classiness, nineteen-eighties neon and nineteen-nineties grunge. I picked out a black tank top and bright red cargo shorts. I was so glad my lineage eliminated the need to shave my legs. (My paternal grandmother was Cherokee, and even though my father had body hair, the gene that nixed it had been inherited by me.)

Putting on new, clean clothes felt good. It was something I hadn't done in a while. I mean sure, I'd stayed at bed-and-breakfasts and been able to take showers and all that jazz, but I'd only had one outfit the whole time.

I put on my black Chuck Taylors and fixed my hair with a brush I'd found in a drawer before going out into the hall. Just as I came out, I bumped into someone.

"Oh—sorry, Elyon," Kurt said, righting himself.

"No problem," I replied. My stomach growled.

He noticed this, and he chuckled. "Come on. Let's get something to eat." We started towards the kitchen.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked him. Since my night had been so awful, it would make me feel better if my friend hadn't experienced the same.

"Yes. And you?" We stopped on the second floor landing.

"Nope," I said matter-of-factly. He didn't ask me why, which made me feel relieved. Abruptly, something was nagging at me. "What day is it?"

"_Donnerstag__,_" Kurt answered. "Thursday."

We were on the first floor now.

Kurt glanced at me and laughed to himself. I gave him a puzzled look, and he said, "We're opposites today."

I wondered what he could possibly mean. Apparently, this showed on my face, for he gestured to my black top and red shorts, and then to his own crimson button-up and black pants.

I saw what he meant, then. "Oh. I guess we are." Since his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, I could see the intricate etchings on his forearms. I gazed at them until his tail flicked, indicating that he'd caught me staring.

There was only one other person in the kitchen. It was a boy of eighteen or nineteen, with cropped, ash blond hair. He was perhaps an inch shorter than Kurt, and he had a wiry frame. He looked at us with ice blue eyes when we entered.

"Kurt," he said in surprise. "You're back."

Kurt just nodded.

The boy turned his attention to me. "Who's this?"

"This is Elyon Ryder," Kurt said. "Elyon, this is Bobby Drake. He's been here for…"

"Four years," Bobby finished.

I ambled over to the pantry and opened it up. As I took a pack of Pop-Tarts, I heard Bobby speak in a hushed tone. "Did Logan tell you about…?"

"Yes." Kurt sounded sad. "He told me everything."

I moved to sit on one of the stools next to the island. They watched me before continuing their conversation.

"Bobby," Kurt said, his voice remorseful. "If I had known this would happen…I swear to God…"

Bobby patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

"I never should have left." Kurt turned his face down, seeming ashamed.

Bobby furrowed his brow. "Hey, man. It's not your fault."

"What?" I asked, my curiosity piquing. "What happened?" I finished off the first pastry.

Before either of them could answer, Bella came in. "Hey, Elyon," she said. "Are you okay?"

Since my mouth was full, I didn't open it to respond. "Mm-hmm." With that, Bella left. She certainly was peculiar.

'_I heard that.' _Whoops.

Just as I was putting the last bit of pasty in my mouth, Logan came into the kitchen. "Xavier needs you down in the Danger Room," he said.

Huh? In spite of my befuddlement, I left with Kurt, who walked behind Bobby and Logan. "What's a Danger Room?"

Kurt patted my head, clearly amused by my resultant scowl. "You'll see soon enough," he said. "Though, they might have to go easy on you, because you are so tiny."

I glared at him. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, _Elf_."

Kurt's chortles stopped short. "Well, you will have to prove that to me, _Fräulein__ Klein_," he retorted.

I stuck my tongue out at him. He elbowed me in return, so I honored him with a good ole razz berry.

We stopped at an empty spot on the wall. Logan hit a button and the wall opened, which made me realize that it was an elevator. We stepped inside, Logan pressed another button, the door closed and we went down. The whole thing seriously reminded me of _The Munsters_. Only, it was an elevator rather than stairs.

When the door opened, we came out into a pale blue-gray hall, with a very contemporary design and round doors with large Xs lining it. The floor was a shiny material I couldn't identify.

"Welcome to the lower levels," said Logan. He began walking down the hall, and we all followed him He turned to go into an alcove.

In cylindrical glass cases were black leather uniforms. Those which were obviously the men's had loose sleeves and legs, armor-like shoulder padding, high collars, padding on the upper thighs, a large X across the chest, a smaller X on each side of the collar, gloves that tucked into the sleeves, boots that went under the pants and a belt with a circular metal buckle that had an X in the center. They all had different colors of trim: light blue, black, cobalt and yellow. The one with black trim had no sleeves, and the one with yellow trim had slightly different designs on the shoulders and abdomen, but other than that, they were the same. There was also a black vest with trousers, both of which had yellow trim, and the vest had an X over the wearer's heart.

The women's uniforms' design had a few miniscule alterations, which were that the X on the chest was replaced by an empire waist, and the sleeves were tighter, so that the gloves came above them. The legs were boot-cut, as well, with a stripe of trim running down the front from the hips. Their trims were white, pink, yellow and aquamarine. The white-trimmed one had boots which were more elegant than the others, not to mention that it featured a knee-length cape.

Logan and Bobby went up to the yellow and light blue men's uniforms, respectively. They hit buttons on the keypads next to them, and the glass slid aside. They draped the uniforms over their arms and placed the gloves and boots on top. The glass closed.

Logan opened one of many gray drawers set into the wall and took out yet more black leather. "Here." He tossed it to Kurt.

This was a long duster, mid-calf length, with red trim and embroidery of the same color on the back that matched the symbols on Kurt's face. The top part of the arms and the shoulders were white. Honestly, it made him look pretty badass.

Logan headed across the hall with Bobby following close behind. "Take her to the Danger Room," Logan told Kurt. "We'll catch up with you."

I still didn't know what a Danger Room was, but I let Kurt lead me to it regardless.

"That coat is really awesome," I commented.

He gave me a skeptical look. "Really." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yup," I confirmed. "You look like you're about ready to kick some serious butt."

This was funny to him, for his mouth tugged upward at the corner in a half-smile. "_Danke__._"

"You're welcome," I said.

"Do you know how hard it is to find a grown-up woman who knows how to have a laugh, let alone an adult in any case?" He made a sharp right turn.

For the first time, I actually considered just how stoic society had become. Nowadays, it seemed like any emotion other than envy was bad. "Pretty hard, I'd reckon."

His expression was a little saddened. "_Sehr__schwer__._"

The round door opened, and we entered a large silvery room, which was also round. I supposed that spherical was a well-liked theme here.

Already in the room were Wanda and her white-haired twin brother, Pietro, as well as Bella. We approached them.

"Hey, Elyon," Wanda greeted me. I guessed that Bella must have told her my name, since I hadn't disclosed it to her myself. "Pietro, this is Elyon Ryder."

Pietro held his hand out. His face was pretty devoid of emotion and expression, but I figured there was a reason for that. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

I shook his hand. "You, too." When I released it, he discreetly rubbed his hand, and I recalled Logan's remark about my grip.

While Kurt and Pietro introduced themselves to one another, I moved to stand next to Bella.

"What are we here for?" I queried.

Bella looked at me as if the answer should be obvious. Then she seemed to remember that I wasn't a telepath. "Professor Xavier wants to test our powers and our ability to work as a team. The others will be in here momentarily. They're fast changers."

I soon saw what she meant. The next people to come through the door were Logan, Bobby, Ororo, Kitty and several people that I didn't recognize. They were a tall, muscular boy with short black hair, a blond man with large, white bird wings on his back, an American Indian girl and another girl who was Asian.

I recognized the uniforms, though. Logan wore the yellow-trimmed men's uniform, Bobby wore the light blue, Ororo wore the one with the cape and Kitty had the one with pink trim. The tall boy wore the sleeveless, black-trimmed uniform, the blond man had the one with cobalt trim, the Indian girl had the aquamarine-trimmed one and the Asian girl wore the uniform with golden trim.

"Elyon, Bella," said Logan, stepping forward, "this is Peter Rasputin, Warren Worthington, Danielle Moonstar, Jubilation Lee and…where's Hank?" His last inquiry sounded irate.

Just then, an ape-like man with blue fur and piercing eyes of the same shade rushed in. He was wearing the vest-and-trouser set. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized. He sounded like a well-educated intellectual. He straightened up, most likely in an attempt to look more professional. "I'm Dr. Henry McCoy. You can call me Hank."

Oh, now I knew who he was! "You're the official who proposed the Mutant Tolerance Act last year," I realized. "The U.N. ambassador!"

"You are very right," Hank said with an affirmative nod. He shifted his gaze. "It's good to have you back, Mr. Wagner."

"It's good to be back, Dr. McCoy," Kurt replied.

'_Is everyone there, Wolverine?' _said Professor Xavier's voice. Even though the question was directed at Logan, I could hear him. I was willing to bet that everyone else could, too.

'_Very good,' _Xavier's voice said. _'Everyone, I need you to listen very carefully. The Danger Room is programmed to a disaster sequence. It is entirely interactive and will respond to anything you do, just as in reality. Wanda, Bella, Pietro and Elyon, your job is to help your team in any way you can. This means protecting them and eliminating obstacles, among other things. You are not to slack off on this duty for any reason whatsoever. You must also allow your teammates to help you, no matter what. Is that understood?'_

_Yes, _I thought honestly.

'_Very well,'_ said Xavier, and I assumed the others had given their answers, also. _'Begin.'_

* * *

_**A/N:**_ And there's Chapter 2. Not much to say, except I hope you liked it.

German translations are as follows:

"_Kätzchen_" — "kitten" (the only people who wouldn't know this would be those who have not read the comics)

"_Fräulein__ Klein_" — literally "Miss Small"

"_Danke_" — "thanks" (that one's pretty obvious)

"_Sehr__schwer__._" — "Very difficult."

Please review! Constructive criticism is much appreciated!

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	3. Chapter 3

**3. GRAVE**

In an instant, the round room had completely transformed. Now, it was a post-apocalyptic world, full of burning buildings, black smoke, scrap metal and the distant creaking sounds of machinery. It was like Hell, steampunk style.

Ororo gathered us all into a circle. "Quick briefing," she said. "There are three Sentinel robots that have destroyed this quadrant. Our objective is to shut them down."

"We'll split into three squads," Hank decided. "There are fourteen of us, so one squad will have to have four people. Storm and I will go with Psyche, Jubilee and Iceman." Somehow, I was able to guess that Ororo was Storm, Danielle Moonstar was Psyche, Jubilation Lee was Jubilee (that one was kind of obvious) and Bobby was Iceman.

"I can group up with Angel, Colossus, Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch," Kitty suggested. Respectively, I knew that these were Warren Worthington, Peter Rasputin, Pietro and Wanda.

"And that leaves me, Cognitia, Sting and Nightcrawler," Wolverine finished. "Beast's squad can take the left side. Shadowcat's can take the right. We'll aim right for the throat." I supposed that Beast and Shadowcat were Hank and Kitty.

Storm nodded. "We'll regroup as soon as it's finished." Then she, Beast and the rest of their squad ran to their designated coordinates. Shadowcat's squad did the same.

Wolverine turned to us. "Now, I want you to listen, and I want you to listen carefully," he said. "This works like a dream. If you stand next to fire, you'll feel the heat. If you get hit, it will hurt. If flying debris hits you in the head, you could get a concussion. And trust me, there _will _be flying debris. We have to work as a team, watch each other's backs. Got it?" Cognitia and I both nodded. "Good."

His hands balled into fists, and he rolled his shoulders a bit. I watched his hands curiously.

_Snikt! _From between his knuckles there came long, shiny metal claws, three on each hand. It was one of the coolest things I'd ever seen.

"Let's go!" Wolverine commanded. We followed his quick stride down the path in front of us.

There really _was _an awful lot of fire. Cognitia and I crouched low to the ground to keep from breathing in smoke. Wolverine and Nightcrawler didn't, however. Since I didn't really know what Wolverine's powers were—the claws seemed to just be part of it—I could safely assume that they allowed him to breathe the ash. But I knew that Nightcrawler's powers couldn't do that. So why were his lungs not irritated? Why did it appear the ability to thrive in environments such as this was built into him?

I glanced up to see a flaming oven soaring towards me. Before I could react, Nightcrawler appeared with a puff of blue-red smoke, simultaneously doing a mid-air double-somersault. He pushed the oven through the air with a single kick from his legs before landing in front of me with a ridiculous amount of grace.

"Thanks," I said, baffled.

"_Bitte__schön__,_" he replied.

We moved on after that. Cognitia made herself useful, moving large obstacles that were in our way. Whenever she grew tired from that, I took her place.

It wasn't very long before a refrigerator that had been set ablaze came hurtling towards us. Instinct got the better of me, so I stepped in front and reached inside with my psi hands. Then I expanded them as quickly as I could, and the refrigerator exploded.

I turned to meet the awed faces of my comrades.

"Holy shit." Wolverine sounded like he couldn't believe what he'd just seen.

I shrugged. "I get that a lot."

"_Mutter __Gottes__,_" Nightcrawler breathed, crossing himself.

The only one who did not look particularly surprised was Cognitia, as she probably already knew I could do that. Instead, she congratulated, "Good job, Sting."

Wolverine took his eyes from the refrigerator's remains to rest them on me. "You're some kind of a powerhouse, kiddo."

"_Wunderbar__,_" Nightcrawler expressed, too shocked to switch back to English.

The squealing machinery interrupted this, however. A robotic voice droned, "Mutant life-form detected. Number: unknown. Codename: Wolverine. Mutant life-form detected. Number: unknown. Codename: Nightcrawler. Mutant life-form detected. Number: unknown. Codename: unknown. Mutant life-form detected. Number: unknown. Codename: unknown. Solution: destroy." From behind the crumbling building there stepped a huge, human-like robot. A Sentinel.

"So this is the Danger Room," I muttered.

Wolverine rushed at the Sentinel, dug his claws into it and promptly jumped back when it fired a beam at him from its hand.

It locked its red eyes on me. "Destroy." It raised its hand to me, and I lifted both of mine in preparation. It fired, and I just barely managed to hold the beam back.

"Sting," Wolverine called. "Can't you blow it up?"

"Not at the moment!" Holding the energy off was becoming increasingly more draining, and beads of sweat formed on my brow.

Suddenly, I didn't have to do anything anymore. The Sentinel's arm clamped tightly to its side, and it looked like it couldn't move. I turned to see Cognitia with her feet planted firmly on the ground and her arms rose to the robot. "I got it," she said.

Nightcrawler teleported up to the robot's shoulder. He climbed up to crouch on its head. Then he teleported back, taking the head with him. He jumped off of the head and came to stand with us. We watched as the neck of the Sentinel sparked and it toppled over, upsetting the ground beneath our feet.

The whole process was quick and efficient. I was pleasantly surprised by how well we were all able to work as a team, considering the fact that I barely knew any of these people.

'_Well done,'_ said Professor Xavier. _'Now, I would like to see Kurt, Elyon, Bella, Pietro and Wanda in my office.'_

As Bella, Kurt and I started to walk, the images faded. We easily found the door, meeting up with the twins when we got there. We stepped into the hall and started for the elevator, though Kurt had to put his duster away first.

"Well," said Pietro. "That was fun."

"Very," Kurt agreed, with the barest hints of sarcasm.

"Peter and I tore the leg off of ours," Pietro recounted. "Wanda used a hex bolt to make its joints rust up. Then Warren flew Kitty up to the top, and she short-circuited its system." Wanda looked bashful. I wondered what a hex bolt was.

"Elyon blew things up," Kurt said.

Bella nodded. "It was pretty cool. Logan almost ripped the arm off our Sentinel."

"Bella made the Sentinel stop moving," I said. "And Kurt teleported its head off."

Pietro patted Kurt's back appreciatively as we boarded the elevator. "That is awesome, man."

The rest of the trip to Xavier's office was quiet. I didn't mind this so much, since it didn't take long.

Xavier was glad to see us when we entered. "I'm very impressed with all of you," he told us. "Not only are your powers amazing, but your ability to work as a team is outstanding."

"So, what happens now?" Wanda asked.

Xavier moved to sit behind his desk. "Are you interested in going on real missions, doing assignments that would better all the world, human and mutant alike?"

"Yes," said Wanda and Pietro in unison.

"That would be wonderful," Bella enthused.

Xavier looked at me expectantly.

This was a tough decision. We would help both mutants _and _humans? What had humans willingly done for us, besides hate us, try to eradicate us and make our lives miserable? But then, by shunning them, I wasn't any better. And besides, maybe helping them would change their views of us, and no one would have any cause to be afraid.

Finally, I made up my mind. "Yeah."

Professor Xavier nodded. "Then you all must make a promise to me. You must promise me that you will not abuse your power. You will not harm humans, or anyone for that matter, out of spite. Is that understood?"

We all nodded.

Charles looked very pleased. "All right, then," he said. "Welcome to the X-Men."

* * *

After lunch, Wanda came to me with a request.

"Have you seen the grounds yet?" she asked.

"No," I answered, confused.

She didn't seem to notice that I was puzzled. "I haven't, either. Do you want to walk around with me?"

What was this about? Maybe she was just being friendly. I couldn't know, since no one had ever tried to be friendly with me before; Bella and Kurt were exceptions, seeing as we'd been in a stressful situation at the time. Even though I had no idea, I said, "Sure. We can see if Kurt will show us the place."

We found Kurt sitting on the couch with Logan, in the den. He looked up when we came in.

"Hey, Kurt," I said. "Wanda and I were wondering if you'd show us around."

_Bamf!_ In less than a second, he was standing beside us. Apparently, Wanda hadn't seen him teleport yet, for she appeared to be amazed. "You've already seen the mansion," Kurt said. "Did you want to go outside?" We started away from the den.

"Yeah," Wanda replied.

"Okay, then." He led us out a back door and onto a stone patio. From here, I could see seemingly endless gardens, as well as a lawn. It was all very beautiful.

Kurt headed down a flight of stairs, and we followed him. Now, I noticed two tall stones in the middle of the lawn. They were almost like headstones, strangely enough.

Wanda saw them, too, and she immediately went over to inspect them.

I ran after her. "Wanda!" I caught up with her at the stones, Kurt right at my heels.

They really _were _grave markers, I saw. In the middle, it looked like a third had stood there at one time. The two that were left had circle-enclosed Xs at the top, and there were names listed. The one on the left said "Jean Grey," and the one on the right said "Scott Summers"—I recognized the name from the night before. Under Scott Summers' name, there was the alias "Cyclops." The death years were the same…just last year.

I shifted my gaze to Wanda. Her brow was furrowed, her lips were pursed and her eyes looked moist. "Scott," she whispered.

"What's wrong, Wanda?" I asked her tensely.

"I knew him," she said. "We were imprisoned together in an experimentation facility sixteen years ago. I _knew _him." Her voice wavered.

Whatever she was talking about, it had obviously been a traumatizing experience. That much was very clear. It was also apparent that seeing Scott's grave brought back all sorts of things that she probably didn't want to remember. Even now, a single tear streamed down the left side of her face, and holding the rest back appeared to be a struggle for her. It was terrible.

Helpless to do anything else, I patted her shoulder.

Kurt broke the silence. "Logan said he wanted you two and Pietro and Bella to meet him in the lower levels." His voice carried with a quiet reverence. "You had better go."

I stopped on the patio, allowing Wanda to head on. I turned and watched as Kurt knelt before the graves with his head bowed in prayer. I went on behind Wanda, too touched and awed for a response.

* * *

This was not the Danger Room, even though it was still huge. The walls were off-gray and the floors were hardwood. One wall was a single large mirror.

Pietro, Wanda, Bella and I were all lined up in front of Logan, who had changed into jeans and a t-shirt since the simulation. He studied us speculatively, intimidatingly. He reminded me of a drill sergeant.

"So, newbies," he said. "Any of you ever been in a fight?" The twins and I nodded. "Brought someone down in a fight?" Just me and Pietro that time. "Ever _actually _fought—not just sparring?" Just me now.

Logan was visibly disbelieving. "Have any combat skills?"

I considered that. "Um…does street fighting count?"

He sighed. "Yeah, that counts." He turned his attention back to all of us. "I'm going to spar with each of ya, and after that I'll work with you on improving your skills. No powers, either."

"But if we get a hit in, you'll just heal," Pietro pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm what Chuck calls a 'Beta.' Means I can't turn off my powers," Logan informed him. So I was right in thinking that his power had allowed him to breathe the smoke earlier. But what about Kurt? "Bella," he went on. "You first."

After Bella had her turn, Wanda went up, and then Pietro. Finally, it was my turn.

"You sure you'll be able to handle this?" Logan asked, as if I couldn't take care of myself.

I took on a sparring stance. "Bring it."

Logan lowered into a crouch. I watched his every move cautiously, trying to pinpoint a fighting style. He lunged forward, curling into a ball and rolling towards me a top speed. Thinking quickly, I jumped into the air just before he reached me. He rolled on, and I landed on the balls of my feet. I wheeled to face him.

Of course. He fought like a wolverine.

He got to his feet. I held my arms out in front of me, directly parallel to my torso. We began to circle each other. Thanks to my fancy footwork, my shoes never left the ground.

I kept my limbs close together, protecting my center. I smirked. "Let's dance."

"Let's." He came at me again, and I stepped neatly out of the way. I swung my right arm upwards and jabbed him in the center of his back, blocking the area I'd allowed to remain open with my left arm at the same time.

It went on like this for another two minutes before he knocked me down at last.

He nodded approvingly. "Not bad, for a newbie."

"Um, thanks…I think." I picked myself up.

"We'll start again tomorrow," Logan announced. He headed upstairs with us.

As soon as we were on the first floor, Logan stopped and sniffed the air. "Marie!" he gasped. He fast-walked into the foyer, where we found Kurt hugging a dark-haired girl.

The girl pulled away. Her mid-back-length deep brown hair had faint twinges of red in it, and her face was framed by white streaks. Her pretty dark eyes, set nicely into a pale, round face, lit up when she saw our companion. She ran up to him and embraced him. "Logan! Oh my God, it's so good to see you!" She spoke with a noticeable Southern twang; Mississippi, I guessed.

"It's good to see you, too," Logan said, hugging her in return.

The girl noticed us then and looked embarrassed. "Oh, dear. I didn't see you there. Erm, hello."

"Hi," Wanda greeted her. "I'm Wanda Maximoff."

"I'm her twin brother, Pietro," Wanda's white-haired sibling said.

"I'm Bella Robertson," said the telepath.

I inclined my head. "I'm Elyon Ryder."

"It's very nice to meet y'all," the girl expressed. "My name is Marie D'Ancanto. They used to call me Rogue."

* * *

_**A/N: **_Yes, Marie will be important to the story, as a matter of fact. I won't say how. You'll have to wait. And, I know, this chapter was a lot shorter than the last two. I don't know why, but so are the next few.

German translations are as follows:

"_bitte__schön_" — "you're welcome"

"_Mutter __Gottes_" — "Mother of God"

"_Wunderbar_" — "wonderful" (you ought to have known that)

Review!

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	4. Chapter 4

**4. VISIT**

I learned a lot about Marie over the course of a day.

She was from Meridian, Mississippi, to begin with. After her power, which she refused to tell me about, manifested itself, she ran away to Alberta. There, she met Logan. They got into a scrap and were helped out by Storm and the late Cyclops. She'd been involved in the whole U.N. Summit mess last year, too. Apparently, Kurt had saved her life the very day she met him, as well; he looked bashful when she mentioned it. Also, it appeared that she and Bobby were an item.

She was a very sweet girl. Rather proper, I'll admit, but I could tell that we would get along just fine. It made me wonder what her mutation had been, and what had made her want to get rid of it.

The following morning, Xavier told me something I was glad to hear.

"Your parents are in the foyer," he said as I sat in the kitchen with Kurt, eating breakfast.

I shot to my feet like a bullet. I turned to my German friend with a second thought. "Kurt, do you want to meet my parents?"

He seemed self-conscious. "Eh…I don't know if I…"

"What?" Personally, I didn't think he had a reason for being nervous.

"What if they are scared by me?" He looked down at his hands. "I mean, I am not exactly the most normal-looking man in the world."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. They'll like you, trust me."

"But…"

"Hey." I looked him in the eyes. "Once they find out that you're my friend, they will think you're an angel sent from Heaven."

He took a deep breath. "Okay." He got down off his stool and followed me into the foyer.

My parents were as comforting a sight as ever. I'd only been gone for three weeks, but it felt more like three years. They took turns hugging me.

"I missed you so much, Ellie," Jen whispered.

"I missed you, too," I replied. "Both of you." I turned to gesture to Kurt so that I might introduce him to them, but he wasn't there.

I remembered what he'd told me about "shadowmelding," so I looked for the darkest patch of shadow. I found it near the stairs, and had to resort to feeling around with my arms outstretched, as though I were a blind woman without a cane. At last, I happened across him.

"Come on, Kurt," I said quietly. "They won't hurt you." He broke the blend and came with me into the light. Jen and Tom were obviously more than a little surprised by him, but they were most certainly not frightened. "Mom, Dad, this is my friend Kurt Wagner."

"_Guten Morgen,_" Kurt greeted.

"Hi," said my mother. "I'm Jen."

"I'm Tom," said my father. "You're Elyon's friend?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes."

"Where are you from?" Tom asked him.

"A little village near Munich," Kurt told him. "I was in the circus there."

Jen and Tom both looked interested. "What did you do?" Jen inquired.

"I had an acrobatic act," he informed them.

"That's exciting," Jen enthused.

Tom glanced at his watch. "We'd better be going. It's a long way back to Tennessee."

What a disappointment! "Can't you stay a little longer?" There was just a bit of a whine in my tone. I loved my parents, and I didn't want them to leave.

"Sorry, Elyon," Tom said sadly. "We need to get home. We'll call you, okay?"

"Fine," I sighed. "Tell Grandma I said hi, please?" Grandma, who lived on the reservation, couldn't afford cell phone service, and I didn't want her bill to go up just because I made a long-distance call to her.

"We will," Jen promised. "Your things are all here." She motioned to the two large duffel bags on the floor. "Bye, Elyon." She hugged me, as did Tom.

"Bye, Mom." I was choked up, but no tears came to my eyes. I hadn't cried in a year. "Bye, Dad."

They started for the door. Tom turned to me. "Love you, Elyon."

"Love you, too." Then they left.

When they were gone, Kurt remarked, "They're very nice."

"They really are." I slung a duffel bag over my shoulder. Kurt took the other. "Thanks."

"It's nothing," he said. We brought the luggage up to my room and went about our day.

After lunch, Logan met us outside for combat training. He worked with Bella, Pietro was with Wanda, and I was paired up with Kurt.

He was really fun to spar. His agility and reflexes made him a fun challenge. Though, of course, I was down in about a minute. But we enjoyed fighting each other, unexpectedly, so I didn't allow my ego to be wounded. Not to mention that he'd had far more experience with winning than I, so he actually knew what he was doing.

It went on like this for a week. Marie stayed too, which I didn't mind at all.

The following Friday, however, we had more visitors.

Logan opened the door for two women. The taller one was a stunning blonde, with glasses and a figure to rival that of a _Vogue_ model. She wore a navy blue suit with army badges, so she must have been fairly important.

The other was an understated, but still beautiful, redhead with wide blue eyes and an innocent pout. Her fiery locks fell in perfect curls to the middle of her back, and she wore a simple black pantsuit. I imagined that she took orders from the blonde.

The golden-haired woman did not offer to shake Logan's hand. Instead, she said, "I'm Colonel Carol Danvers. This is my assistant, Natasha Romanov."

"Hello," Natasha said.

Logan looked suspicious. "What do you want?"

"We know that this is a school for mutants, sir," Carol Danvers said coolly. "We are also aware of your hangar and the Blackbird it houses. The owner of this establishment is teaching a class now, I presume?"

Logan was hesitant, cautious. "Yeah."

Danvers studied him. "What is your name?"

"Logan," he said evenly.

"Mr. Logan, would you be so kind as to show us around?" The colonel was calm, cool and collected. "Only the lower levels, if you will."

Logan seemed to consider this. He was probably asking Professor Xavier. Finally, he replied. "Sure."

The women entered. Natasha Romanov noticed me and stopped while Logan led Danvers onward. "What's your name?"

"Elyon Ryder," I said, worried that perhaps I ought not to have said anything.

She shook my hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ryder." She went on behind her boss.

I sat down on the stairs. Marie came down them after a minute or two. "Whose was that car that pulled up?"

"A couple ladies from the government," I responded. "They went with Logan to the lower levels."

Logan came back then, without Danvers or Romanov. "Where are the government women?" Marie queried.

"Down in the lower levels," said Logan. "They said they were making certain that the students were safe. I didn't trust them, but Chuck told me it was okay."

Marie frowned. "C'mon, Elyon. Let's go check it out."

"I don't know," Logan disagreed. "As little sense as Xavier makes sometimes, I trust him on this one."

Marie looked distasteful. However, she consented. "Oh, okay."

_Bamf!_ Suddenly, Kurt was sitting beside me. I jumped, startled. He chuckled at my reaction. "Hello, Elyon!" he said cheerfully.

"Hello, He Who Spooks," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He saw that he'd really given me a fright, and he became serious. "Sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay," I said. "What did you want?"

He straightened up in a dignified manner as he replied. "I believe I promised you a dance lesson, _meine Freundin_."

Oh, yeah! I'd almost forgotten. Filled with excitement, I hugged him, albeit with just one arm. "Yay!"

He stood with me. He put his hand on my shoulder to teleport us to the parlor. Given that my shoulder was covered up by my long-sleeved shirt, I was beginning to be aggravated by the fact that I had no idea what his skin felt like, or even if it felt any different at all.

In an instant, we were in the parlor. Even after a week of being here, I still admired the old-fashioned furniture and the grand piano that was near the back of the room.

Kurt moved to stand in front of me. "Alright, so first things first. Are you loosened up?"

"Yep." I scrutinized his hands, unable to keep myself from wanting to touch them.

"Okay, then. We'll just start on the basics, technique and all of that." His expression was conspiratorial. "I must warn you; I've never taught anyone with the intention of teaching, so you will have to bear with me." He stepped up to me. Then he took my right hand in his left.

His skin was warm, and had no hair, like me. There was an oddly soft, sateen quality to it. When I touched him, it felt as though a small spark of electricity passed between us. It was a strange sensation, possibly because I'd never touched someone outside of my family in a friendly manner.

We started on the first lesson. I had never suspected that I would enjoy spending time with a friend this much.

* * *

When we were finished, Bella met us in the hall with Marie.

"Those government people are still here," Bella said. "It's been an hour."

An hour? I had to admit, that was a little ridiculous. I had to know what was going on, and I could tell that Marie would be on board with that. "Bella, tell me if what I'm about to do is foolish." Kurt caught on then.

"It isn't foolish if I come with you three." Bella glanced around. "Come on." She led us to the elevator, somehow managing to keep from tripping over her own feet.

After we landed, we quickly and quietly filed out. I went to Bella. "You getting anything?" I kept my voice hushed.

She closed her eyes. "This way." We made our way to the hangar. I could hear them from behind the closed doors, but I couldn't make out anything they were saying.

"Where are they in the room?" I asked tensely.

"By the Blackbird, on the side closest to the door," Bella muttered.

I turned to Kurt. "Can you get us in there?"

He nodded. "I can try." He wrapped his arms around Marie, and their bodies were replaced by dark smoke. Then he took Bella, and lastly he came for me.

I peered out from behind the Blackbird. Colonel Danvers and Natasha Romanov appeared to be inspecting the jet. Romanov was holding a pen and a clipboard.

"Ms. Romanov, make note of the open access," Colonel Danvers instructed. "It could be dangerous."

"Yes, Colonel." Romanov wrote something down. She shifted her gaze to my direction, and I turned invisible. She clicked her pen and a light flashed on it. Almost like…

"A camera!" I hissed, going back to the others and making myself visible again.

Kurt's expression was that of alarm. "Oh, no."

Marie looked to Bella. "What do we do?"

Bella sighed. "The only thing we _can_ do." She made her way from behind the jet with confidence. We followed after her. She was the telepath, after all. "Hey!" she called. The Colonel and her assistant looked shocked. "What do you think you're doing?"

Colonel Danvers kept her composure. "We're here on a government errand. What are _you _doing here?"

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "We _live _here."

"And we would appreciate it if you would stop taking pictures," Kurt added. He nuanced his voice in such a way that made him sound menacing.

"If you don't mind," Marie finished.

Danvers never caved. Instead, she pointed to us nonchalantly. "Natasha."

Romanov handed Danvers her pen. She rushed us, jumping high into the air. However, Kurt intercepted her, 'porting to her level and kicking her to the ground.

She picked herself up, annoyed. She came at us again, this time throwing a punch to my head. I dodged her, ducking under her arm and delivering a sharp jab to her ribs.

I saw Danvers fleeing the scene. "Marie! Don't let her go!" Marie ran after her while our fight proceeded.

Romanov fought with high kicks and precise blows. When she managed to clip my head, Kurt used his tail like a bullwhip and threw her to the floor. Bella pressed her fingertips to her temples. Romanov wriggled violently.

"She's blocking my telepathy somehow," she said. "And I can't keep her in a shield for much longer. Elyon, do something!"

But I couldn't! It was too cruel!

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Elyon, please," Kurt murmured. "Do what you have to do."

I stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. "But—"

"God will forgive you," Kurt assured me. "I swear it."

"Elyon!" Bella's anguished cry barely reached me.

"Now," Kurt said, his voice urgent. "_Schnell_, Elyon!"

I had to do this, I realized. Reluctantly, I focused on Romanov. It was as simple as just wishing her sight away. She gazed blankly with her now-blind eyes, though she continued to struggle. There was only one thing I could do about that. With a sigh, I made her mind think that her body was being burned from the inside out. She let out a bloodcurdling shriek and ceased squirming.

I doused the fire and returned her sight to her. Then I knelt by her. She must have felt as though she'd been to Hell and back. "I'm sorry," I said in earnest.

Just then, we heard another horrifying scream.

"_Marie!_" Kurt bolted to the source of the sound. Bella and I ran after him.

Marie stood in the hall, staring at her hand with disgust written on her face. Colonel Danvers lay at her feet, convulsing as though she were having a seizure. Her skin was clammy and pale, and she was foaming at the mouth.

Bobby's voice rang through the hall. "Marie! Marie, _no_!" He enveloped her in his arms and whispered comforting words as she began to cry.

Professor Xavier, Logan, Hank, Peter and Ororo had come with him. Xavier, Logan and Ororo helped Bobby calm Marie down, and together they took her to her room. Hank called an ambulance. Peter only stood with us, surprised as we were.

I didn't know I was shaking until Kurt put his arm around my shoulder in an attempt to steady and console me.

We had just witnessed the return of the Rogue.

_**

* * *

**_

A/N:

See, now you know.

German translations are as follows:

"_Guten __Morgen_" — "good morning"

"s_chnell_" — "quickly"

Review!


	5. Chapter 5

**5. FURY**

Wanda met us in the hall when we were back on the first floor. I'd regained my composure. "What happened? What's wrong with Marie?" There was an edge to her voice. She was frightened.

"Marie's powers are back," said Peter. "The ambulance is coming to take care of Colonel Danvers and Natasha Romanov."

She appeared to understand. "Oh." Her hands clenched into fists and her jaw was taut. "It upsets her."

Kurt approached her. "I know," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "But there is nothing we can do. You must understand that."

Wanda nodded. Then she turned and vanished up the stairs.

We all stood in silence for a moment. Then Peter said, "I should find Kitty. She'll want to know what's going on." He left.

"I'll go help Marie," Bella muttered. She followed Wanda's path up the stairs, leaving me and Kurt alone.

The blue demon-like man was quiet. I didn't look at him, but I could feel the weight of his gaze. I hoped he wasn't just making sure I wouldn't hurt anyone else.

A question came to mind, and I tried to frame it. "You're not…afraid of me…are you?"

When I turned to him, he seemed astonished. "No," he said. "Of course not. But…I didn't know that your powers…"

"Were that terrible?" I furrowed my brow.

He was aggravated, I could tell. "I was going to say that I did not know your powers worked like that." He shook his head. "You think too little of yourself. Trust me; I've committed far more sins than you have."

I remembered what his scars meant, and I realized that he was probably right. I lowered my head. "I'm sorry."

"Do not worry about it," he said softly, patting my arm.

I had another inquiry. "What are Marie's powers?" We began walking towards the den.

Kurt struggled to find words. "Her skin…when she touches people, she takes their life force and memories from them. If the person she touches is a mutant, she takes their gifts for a short time. It makes your skills look friendly."

I couldn't help it; I shivered.

"Logan said she took the cure," he went on. "But for some reason, her power has returned. She's probably very confused. I suppose she will start asking to be called 'Rogue' again."

"Did you…?" I trailed off, unsure if the question was appropriate.

"Did I what?" We were in the den now, and he sat down on the couch. He invited me to sit beside him.

"Did you ever consider getting the cure?" I regretted the question as soon as I voiced it.

He thought about it. "I did," he said finally. "I decided it was not worth it. My mutation is too much part of me. And besides, if I had, perhaps I never would have met you, and you would never be here, safe from harm."

I smiled at him. "Perhaps."

He returned the smile. "You do not need to be afraid anymore. The people here care about you."

"I know."

In a gesture of the comfort of a true friend, he took my hand in his.

* * *

About an hour later, I decided to check on Marie.

I bumped into Bella on the way. "Hey," she said. "Are you going to see Marie?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Logan's really worried about her," she mentioned. She appeared to be worried, as well…

I gasped in surprise. "You like him!"

Bella was puzzled. "What?"

I grinned. "Logan. You _like _him." She blushed furiously, and I cheered inwardly at my triumph. Of course she liked him. He was intriguing, what with his amnesia, as well as ruggedly handsome. It was only natural for her to be attracted to him.

She put her hands on her hips. "Oh, _you're _one to talk."

"Huh?" What was she talking about?

"Oh, I think you know," she huffed, making her way downstairs.

I groaned in my head. It was so annoying when she did that. _And _I couldn't figure out what she meant. I shrugged it off and continued up to Marie's room.

I knocked on her closed door. "Come in," she called. I opened the door.

"Hi, Marie," I said. She sat in the bay window, staring out at the fountain behind the mansion. "Are you okay?" I seated myself on her bed.

"No." She turned to me, her eyes faraway. "I'm scared, Elyon. I think she'll be part of me forever."

"Who?" I wondered. "Colonel Danvers?"

She nodded. Wordlessly, she _floated_ right off her perch. I stared in awe. "It's been an hour," she said. "And I still have her powers. I'm still hearing her voice in my head." Her tone became lamenting. "I don't understand! I had the cure. This shouldn't be happening!" She hovered back down. Tears streamed down her face. "Please go," she whispered.

I got up to leave.

"Elyon?" she said. I turned back to her. "Call me Rogue."

I understood completely. "Okay." I exited the room, closing the door behind me.

Kurt was standing in the hall. "How is she?"

I stuck my hands into my pockets. "Not good," I answered truthfully. "She's terrified. I didn't have the chance to speak with her longer, but I think she just wants to be left alone."

"I can understand that," Kurt said. "I would probably want to be left alone also."

"I just don't get it," I said, frustrated. "Why did the cure just stop working? And why Rogue, of all cured mutants? None of this is adding up." I sighed. "I can't imagine what kind of trauma this has caused. She'll probably never be able to trust a human to help her ever again." _Kind of like me._

He snagged onto the topic. "Speaking of trauma," he said, "when are you going to teach me about psychology?" We began descending the stairs.

"Well, we can do that now," I said. "Somewhere quiet. We could go back to the parlor." We made our way to the parlor and sat on one of the couches.

There seemed to be something nagging at him. "I have a few questions."

"Okay." I reviewed things in my mind, making sure that I remembered what I'd learned. "What do you want to know?"

"What is psychosis?"

Good, I knew that one. "Psychosis is a broad mental disorder. Basically, it's when someone is either disconnected from reality, or unable to cope with reality. Psychotics suffer from hallucinations, delusions, disorganized thinking, or a combination of the three."

"Disorganized thinking?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. It's when someone goes through constant disturbance of thought. It's often characterized by not finishing a sentence and forgetting about it, jumbling random words together, stuff like that."

He thought of another question. "What is the difference between a sociopath and a psychopath? I've heard both terms."

I weighed my answer carefully. "Sociopaths are less organized. They're nervous and easily agitated, so they tend to act out in ways that are inappropriate without considering the consequences. Psychopaths, on the other hand…It's like, whereas sociopaths almost never think, psychopaths almost always over think. They're organized, secretive and manipulative. Ever move, every action, is carefully thought out and planned. Though, they both suffer from a disorder that makes them disregard for the feelings of others, and that keeps them from feeling guilt."

"Were those people who hurt you psychopaths?" He caught and held my gaze.

"No," I answered reluctantly. "No, ah, they were just…they were just disturbed. They didn't understand me. We all fear what we don't understand."

He seemed to consider something before asking another question. I was relieved to change subjects.

Later in the day, I went down to the lower levels for solo combat practice. Kurt accompanied me.

He didn't work out with me. He let me have my space, for which I was grateful. I was still irritated by the earlier mention of the imbeciles who'd attacked me.

He sat cross-legged on the floor by the wall. I busied myself beating up a Bob dummy—_how dare a bunch of rubber and plastic be taller than I?_ After putting the hurt in the dirt, I took my washcloth and wiped the sweat from my face.

"How old are you?" Kurt asked me, curious.

"I'm twenty-two." I took a long drink from my water bottle. "What about you?"

"I turned twenty-three last November." He studied me inquisitively. "Is your skin naturally so tan as that?"

I nodded. "Uh-huh. My grandmother is Cherokee, so my dad is half. And both of my mom's parents were half-Native, which makes her half. Since both of my parents are half, I'm half." I straightened up proudly.

"That explains why you're a little bit copper," he mused as I came up to him.

I sat down beside him. "Yeah. And if you look, I don't have any hair on me, either. I get it from my grandmother." I held my arm out to him. "See?"

He inspected me closely, running his hand along the length of my arm. "Fascinating," he murmured. "It feels almost exactly like silk."

"I got my middle name from my grandmother, too," I told him. "Her name is Layne Owl. I call her _E-li'-si_."

"Elyon Layne Ryder." He appeared to enjoy saying it. "It has a nice ring to it."

I looked up at him. "What's _your_ middle name?"

"My middle name is my real mother's maiden name," he said. "My foster mother gave it to me, though. It's Darkholme."

"Do you know who your mother was?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. All I know is that she was a woman named Raven Darkholme."

"Oh. That's kind of sad." _Very _sad, actually. I'd hate not knowing who my real parents were.

He said nothing, instead pursing his lips in concentration. "Shall we check on Rogue?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

After we got to the first floor, we ran into Ororo, who was walking at an urgently brisk pace with Rogue by her side.

"Ororo?" I said. "Rogue? What's wrong?"

"Rogue found a name," Ororo said. Kurt and I walked with them. "We have to tell Charles."

When we got to his office, Kitty, Peter, Wanda and Pietro were in there. They were obviously confused.

Ororo began, "Charles—"

"I know, Ororo," Xavier said gravely. He looked at Rogue. "Rogue, do you know who he is, this Nick Fury?"

Rogue's brow creased. "I have no idea, Professor. The name just came to me, so I figured it was important." She looked out the window at the dark sky of dusk.

Xavier directed his attention to Kitty. "Kitty, I need you to do research on Nick Fury. Find out everything you can."

The Jewish girl nodded. "Yes, Professor. Peter, will you come with me?"

"Of course, Kitty." They left together. Even amidst the seriousness, I couldn't help wondering why they weren't dating yet.

But then there was the whole issue of the information Rogue had pulled from the colonel's brain. It seemed that she had not been acting alone—she'd been taking orders from this Nick Fury character, I guessed. What else was Carol Danvers hiding?

I glanced at Rogue. She was trembling. I went over to her and patted her back reassuringly. "Come on," I said. "You need to sit down." I guided her to the chair which had been left vacant by Kitty. Kurt knelt by Rogue and consoled her.

I watched Wanda. She studied Rogue, visibly chafing at her distress. Pietro put a hand on her shoulder.

Sensing that there wasn't much else I could do, I decided to retire for the night.

* * *

'_Wake up! Something's going on, wake up!'_

I sat up groggily and blinked as my eyes adjusted to being awake. I looked at the digital clock, grimacing at the ungodly hour. _What do you want, Bella? It's two in the morning!_

'_Something's wrong with Wanda,'_ Bella told me. _'I don't know what—her thoughts are too scattered—but she went outside. If she were to do something irrational…We have to go after her. She listens to you; you might be able to calm her down.'_

What was Wanda doing outside? It didn't matter. If she needed me, I had to be there. _Aw, okay,_ I thought as I got up and slipped on my flip-flops.

'_Meet me on the second floor landing,' _Bella instructed. _'I'll be there soon.'_

Before I left the room, I put on a sports bra under my racer-back tank top. (I'd never been able to leave my room without that kind of undergarment; it was a quirk of mine.)

When I reached the landing, Kurt was already there in his paint-splattered coat. I considered asking him why, but then my brain woke up in time for me to remember that it was dark outside and the second week of March.

"Oh, crap, I forgot a jacket," I moaned. "I'm so _stupid_ when I'm tired!" I started back upstairs, but he stopped me.

"You can use my jacket," he offered, like the good friend he'd proven to be.

I frowned. "But won't you get cold?"

He shrugged. "It's no big deal." He slipped out of the coat and handed it to me. "Here."

I realized rather abruptly that he wasn't wearing a shirt under the coat, just black sweatpants. Despite the general awkwardness, I couldn't help but stare.

I saw that he was not, in fact, entirely hairless, for the light threw the hair on his arms into definition. It was simply translucent as well as very fine and sparse, like that of a young child, although his chest was smooth and devoid. Also, his torso and arms were well-muscled, not hugely, but just a little more subtle, since he was a gymnast. I noticed that he had a six-pack in addition to well-toned pectorals. His scars only accentuated this.

_The years he spent in the circus really paid off, _I thought. I blushed a little bit. Diverting my attention from him, I put the coat on. The hem fell to my ankles, and my hands were hidden, but it was very warm. He laughed under his breath at the fact that I was practically swimming in it. I took it good-naturedly, for I was all too used to it by now. "I'm little, I know. Thanks."

Bella hurried down the stairs, wearing a long wool jacket. "Come on, let's go!" We followed her down to the first floor and out the back door.

Wanda paced in front of the headstones of Jean Grey and Scott Summers. Her legs were stiff and her stance was rigid. Her hands were clenched into fists as she glared at the darkness around her. The red cloak flaring out behind her exemplified her anger.

A sudden gust of wind rushed past us as Pietro rushed to his sister's side. We sped up to reach them.

Pietro took Wanda's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"It's not fair," Wanda whimpered.

"Wanda!" I called. She turned to me. There was an unusual light in her eyes I'd never seen before.

"It's not _fair_!" she cried, but not loud enough for anyone inside to hear.

Bella spoke next. "What isn't fair?" Her voice was gentle, comforting, but it did nothing.

"_Everything!_" Wanda turned away from her brother and raised her hands to the sky in exasperation. "_Nothing_ is fair! It isn't fair that the world _hates_ us! It isn't fair that we have to hide who we _are_! It isn't fair that your parents are dead, it isn't fair that Kurt was hunted down because of an accident, it isn't fair that Elyon feels guilty about something she can't control!" She pointed to us as she mentioned us.

I looked at the ground, ashamed.

Wanda continued, "It's not fair that there's always going to be hate crime! It's not fair that the government monitors our every move! It's not fair that Rogue is horrified by who she is! It's not fair that Scott is _dead_!"

Pietro looked troubled. "That's just the way it _is_, sis," he said softly. "Life's not fair."

"I _know_!" Wanda fumed. "I'm _sick_ and _tired_ of it!" She sat down on the grass, defeated. Tears streamed from her eyes. So quietly it was almost a whisper, she said, "I can't take it anymore." Then she screamed, and her scream was colored with the voices of countless other people.

And then some kind of force wave exploded from her, so strong that it blasted us all backward.

Kurt and I landed behind a hedge. Although I was disoriented, I instinctively peered out from the shrubbery, but Wanda was glowing with a scarlet light so bright it nearly blinded me, and I hid behind the hedge again.

I heard a great wind blowing about, and the wet tearing sound of dirt being ripped up. But there was no way to see what was going on. It was scary.

Two minutes of this passed. Finally, the air stilled and there was no more noise.

Kurt looked at me, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Great," I said. "I'm great. Fit as a fiddle." I stood and stretched. Kurt rose with me. Cautiously, we went around the hedge to see what had happened.

Pietro was holding Wanda as she sobbed, seeming as though he felt powerless to help her. However, this was not what shocked me.

Lying on the ground, which looked undisturbed, were three people. One man was bald, with features that were dignified in a way, and he was wearing a sateen gray suit. The other man was younger, perhaps in his twenties, and he had dark brown hair and pale skin. He was dressed in sneakers, blue jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket, as opposed to the other man's formal attire.

The woman was around the same age as the younger man, and she was beautiful. She had clear, cream-colored skin and a pretty face. Her hair was wavy and deep red, and as long as mine. She wore the female variant of the X-Men uniform, and it had red trim.

I didn't know them, and yet I did.

They were Professor Xavier's body, Scott Summers and Jean Grey. They were back.

* * *

_**A/N: **_I really hope you were surprised. It means I'm at least somewhat good at doing that.

The little Cherokee word I have in there, "_E-li'-si_", specifically means "my father's mother." You would only call this to your paternal grandmother's face.

Review!

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	6. Chapter 6

**6. REBIRTH**

According to Ororo, she had been called by Xavier for help during the incident; since he was feeling all of Wanda's pain and rage, he knew assistance would be needed. After the bodies appeared on the yard, he had simply collapsed. Ororo now stood out here with us, waiting for them to awaken.

I sat on the grass, hugging my knees to my chest. Kurt was beside me. I turned to him. "What happened last summer?"

He took a deep breath. "It's a very long story."

"I don't care," I grumbled, feeling very stubborn. "I have to know."

He watched me with his glowing yellow eyes. "Alright." He turned his gaze skyward. "You already know about the incident with Stryker, so…After Jean died, I stayed here for two months before I went back to Boston.

"After I left, Scott was still in a depression. He went to Alkali Lake alone, so that he might remember the heroic thing she did, have closure and move on. But she came back to him, alive once again. He was so overjoyed that he didn't notice that she wasn't acting quite right. She disintegrated him that same moment. The only thing Logan and Ororo found when they investigated was his ruby-quartz sunglasses—you know, like the pair that Ororo put on him a minute ago."

I blinked in surprise. "She _disintegrated_ him?"

Kurt nodded. "She was an incredibly powerful telekinetic.

"Anyway, they found her at the lake and brought her back here to be taken care of. In the infirmary, the Professor told Logan that Jean never really died, and that her powers kept her alive. He also revealed that Jean had an alternate personality which he'd locked away in her mind, but he could no longer contain it, and it made her dangerous. But Logan let his feelings for her get the better of him, and she escaped. He got her to tell him what happened to Scott, though.

"Logan, Ororo and Professor Xavier found Jean at her childhood home. Magneto and some of his Acolytes were already there. The Professor went inside while Logan and Ororo fought the Acolytes.

"The Professor tried to convince Jean to come back here. Perhaps she would have, but her other self took over and she started to lose her temper. Magneto tried to help calm Jean down. It was useless, and she destroyed the Professor anyway.

"After that came the mess at Alcatraz. The fight came down to her and Logan, and he had no choice but to kill her. She was buried here.

"Now, there was a man whose body was being kept alive in the labs, but he had no consciousness. The Professor's mind flowed into him, and he had a substitute body."

A week ago, that would have been unbelievable. However, I knew how powerful Xavier was by now. It didn't take much to convince me. "Wow. That's pretty hardcore."

He chuckled and then was serious again. "And now they've been brought back, almost as if they were never dead."

That got me thinking. If Summers and Professor Xavier had been vaporized, how were their bodies here now? "Kurt…do you know what Wanda's powers are?"

"Pietro told me that she can alter reality," Kurt said.

"Hmm…" I looked up at him. "I'd say there's a pretty big difference between resurrecting someone and making it so they never died in the first place. Wouldn't you?"

Kurt seemed bewildered. "You mean that, right now, everyone only _thinks_ they died?"

"Yeah." It was all starting to make sense. "Who knows? Maybe the three of them _were_ really dead…until Wanda came along. Maybe she made it so Scott and Xavier just vanished—Jean could have transported them somewhere or something, you know? And maybe Logan _did _kill Jean, but only her evil persona was vanquished, and her soul kind of wandered around after that, waiting to return to her body."

"Huh. That would explain why Scott and the Professor are here now." His brow furrowed in thought.

"Exactly, Kurt!" I was beginning to get excited. "Do you see what I'm getting at? It's like she changed the past without changing it at all!" By the end of my conniption, I had shifted to my knees, and I was leaning forward eagerly.

It appeared that a light bulb switched on in his head. "You're right." He grinned at me. "You, my friend, are a genius." Then he frowned. "We probably shouldn't tell the others. It might change too much. Besides, perhaps they are not supposed to know."

"Perhaps," I agreed. "After all, everything happens for a reason."

We turned our attention back to Jean, Scott and Xavier. The others out here were Warren, Logan, Hank, Ororo, Kitty, Peter, Bella, Rogue, Bobby, Danielle and Jubilee (as she preferred to be called). Basically, all of the X-Men kept vigil. All except for Wanda and Pietro. Wanda needed to be alone, and Pietro had gone to be a good brother and comfort her.

Warren came up to us and sat next to Kurt—over the course of the last week and a half, they'd forged a tight brotherly bond. The blond man wasn't wearing a shirt either, so when he was beside Kurt, they truly looked like an angel and a demon.

The pure-white wings fluttered at the same time the blue tail swished when they caught me staring at them.

"Is something the matter?" Warren asked with a smirk. His half-smile could be charming, but I wasn't feeling it right now.

"Nah. Just wishing I had a camera," I said truthfully.

"What for?" Kurt inquired, raising an eyebrow.

_Might as well be honest._ "Seriously," I told them, "you two could be the poster guys for coexistence."

They pretended to consider that. "That is not a bad idea," Kurt remarked.

"The tagline could be 'Tolerance is a beautiful thing'," Warren joked.

I scowled and crossed my arms. "Men are so arrogant," I huffed.

"Come on, Elyon," said Kurt. "We are only kidding."

I flashed them a smile. "I know. Me too."

Warren snickered and commented, "It's no wonder Logan calls you 'Imp' behind your back." When I made a face, he quickly added, "Don't take it personally. Really, Logan giving you a nickname is a huge step in being accepted by him. And anyway, it's _way_ better than what he calls me."

"And what would that be?" I queried. "'Birdie'?" He looked embarrassed, and I cackled. "So let me get this straight," I said as I caught my breath. "We are Imp, Elf and Birdie." I giggled. "We are going to take the poster world by storm."

'_Hey, get over here,'_ Bella said via telepathy.

I stood up. "Time to go." They followed me over to where Bella stood with the others, and we were silent.

After a few seconds, Professor Xavier stirred. Peter set his old wheelchair down near him. The chair was streamlined and remote-controlled. The spokes of the wheels were Xs. "Peter," Xavier said. I actually liked this voice better than the other one. "Peter, help me." Peter picked him up and carefully put him in his chair.

"Charles?" Ororo's tone was worried. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," said Xavier with a small smile. "At least I'm in my own skin again."

Scott Summers sat up almost immediately after Xavier had spoken. A dim red glow ignited behind his shades. He looked about him, clearly dazed, but he was relieved to see Jean beside him. He took her hand, his expression soft.

Then Jean Grey's lids fluttered open, and her dark eyes found Scott. "Hey." Her voice was too quiet for me to tell what she actually sounded like. "What happened? Where are we?"

"I don't know what happened," Scott said. He had a very gentle baritone. "But we're home, Jean. We're home." He smiled down at her and helped her to stand. He looked surprised to see Kurt. "You're back." He took note of me and Bella. "Who's this?"

Bella offered her hand. With her next to Scott, I saw that she and Jean were the same height. "Bella Robertson, also called Cognitia." She shook Scott's hand.

Now it was my turn. "Elyon Ryder—Sting."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops."

I glanced at Logan. He watched Jean with concern and affection. Shifting my attention to Bella, I could sense the barest hints of envy. I guessed that Logan really liked Jean. Bella hid her inner feelings as she introduced herself.

Jean shook my hand. "Hi. I'm Jean Grey." I was typically good at reading people, and I could tell that she had a good, kind heart, as well as integrity.

"Elyon Ryder." I cracked a little smile, which was enough for her.

Ororo called out, "Okay, everyone, let's go back in. Scott, Jean, we'll get you re-situated, alright?"

As everyone else went on, Ororo, Logan, Rogue, Hank and Bobby stayed behind to catch up with their risen comrades.

I was a little confused when Kurt came with me. "Aren't you gonna talk to Scott and Jean?"

"Eh, I have tomorrow. _Und du hast __meine __Jacke_."

"Oh, sorry. Here." I gave his jacket back to him once we were inside, and we went upstairs with the others. I had a feeling that I wouldn't be able to resume my slumber.

* * *

The next day, Xavier wanted us for a Danger Room session with Scott and Jean. He told Kitty that she didn't have to come, since it was the Sabbath, but she insisted that she didn't consider practicing in the Danger Room to be work.

This time, the simulation was that of a city at night. It hadn't been destroyed by anything.

Bella, Kurt and I were the only people there without uniforms. Pietro and Wanda would have been among us, but Wanda was still upset with herself, and Pietro didn't want to be busy if she needed him.

"Cyclops," said Storm after we'd gathered in a circle. "You're in charge."

Cyclops' uniform had black trim like the one Colossus wore, but it had sleeves and gloves. He also wore a nifty visor in place of his shades. "The situation here is simple," he said, easily slipping into the position of field leader. "There's only one Sentinel here now, but that doesn't mean more won't show up. Until they do, we stay together and work as a team. And focus on protecting the people closest to you if they need it. You don't have to save a teammate from debris if they're on the other side of the street. The others will take care of that." He pointed down the street to my right. "We'll go down here first, and then make our way to the heart." He led us down the street.

I decided that I liked him. He was obviously a good leader. Wolverine, on the other hand…I wouldn't say that Wolverine disliked Cyclops, but he wasn't exactly partial to him, either. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was with Jean.

Unfortunately, the simulation was so realistic that it had wind, and my hair blew in my face. I tied it back, annoyed.

Luckily for us, Sentinels were easy to spot, what with being giant robots and all. On the downside, it inevitably found us, since we were such a large group.

As it rattled off codenames, Shadowcat was visibly growing more impatient. She turned to Nightcrawler. "Take me up there so I can shut it up."

"Gladly." Nightcrawler wrapped his arms around her and they vanished.

They reappeared on top of the Sentinel's head. Nightcrawler 'ported back to the ground. Then Shadowcat phased down through its head and came out from its foot.

She was grinning as she walked back to the rest of us. "Three…two…one…buh-bye!"

The robot's structure promptly began to spark, and it fell. I high-fived Shadowcat. "Nice."

Just then, the sound of machinery could be heard behind us. We turned to see five other Sentinels.

The first one started to focus in on us. Cyclops hit the dial on his visor, and his red optic beam shot out, destroying one of the Sentinel's eyes. "_Now!_" Cyclops shouted, and we stormed the machines like an organized army of mutant warriors.

It was the most fun I'd had in weeks.

* * *

After sundown, Kitty started work again on finding information about Nick Fury. I would have watched her, but I decided to let her concentrate. Instead, I went upstairs to check on Wanda.

She was alone in her room at the moment; Pietro was downstairs with Scott, Logan, Peter and Kurt.

"Hey, Wanda," I said quietly. She looked up from where she sat cross-legged on her bed.

"Hey." Her tone was melancholy.

I closed the door behind me. "Do you want to talk…about what happened?"

She hesitated. At last, she said, "Sure. Sit."

I sat down on the chair by her bed. I glanced over at her. She was still distraught. "Do you know _how _you did it?" I thought I'd figured it out, but I wanted to be sure.

"Not really," she admitted. "I was just so _angry_, and then—I just wished they hadn't died." She exhaled deeply. "It was an _accident_, though! I didn't mean to!"

"It's okay, Wanda," I said gently. "Who knows? It's probably a good thing." She was silent, and I supposed that she needed to be alone.

Bella was waiting for me out in the hall. "Kitty found out who Nick Fury is," she said.

"Really?" I asked. "Who is he?"

"He's the head of a program called S.H.I.E.L.D.," Bella told me. "It stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. They're an espionage and law-enforcement agency. They work with the government as a top-secret paramilitary group, dealing with superhuman threats. And they're not the bad guys, in all honesty. I'll bet you anything Fury's really sorry about the whole mess."

Surely enough, the next morning, a letter arrived from Nick Fury himself. He gave his sincerest apologies about what had happened with Carol Danvers and Natasha Romanov. He also explained that he had sent them to take a look at the mansion and evaluate our possible need of help, and he said that he hadn't intended any misunderstanding. Lastly, he asked Xavier if they could meet.

Xavier, after careful deliberation, decided to go. He and Ororo left in the X-Jet the next day.

That morning, I went into Kurt's room for the first time. He was crouched in the bay window, holding his Rosary. He finished his prayer and crossed himself before looking up at me.

"Hello," he said.

"Hey," I said. I looked around in his room. It was like mine, only bigger, and he had a four-poster bed with a canopy and red curtains. The window fittings and the large recliner in the corner were the same shade of crimson. "Nice place."

He smiled. "Thank you." He gestured to the spot in the bay window in front of him. "You can sit down, if you want."

"Okay. Thanks." I seated myself. My attention was drawn to the beads he still held. "How do you pray it?"

He understood my meaning. "First you make the sign of the cross," he said. He took the crucifix in his hand. "Then you hold the crucifix in your right hand and say the Apostles' Creed." He took the first large bead. "You say the Lord's Prayer on this bead." He gestured to next three small beads. "Say three Hail Mary's on these." He held a short link of chain between the third small one and the next large one. "A 'Glory Be to the Father' on this." Then he held the next large bead. "Introduce the first mystery—for example, today is Sunday during Ordinary Time, so you'd say, 'The first Glorious Mystery is the Resurrection'—then say the Lord's Prayer on the same bead.

"Then on the next ten small beads, you say ten Hail Mary's, and on the link of chain, you say a 'Glory Be' and the Fatima prayer. You go on like that till the end, where you say a 'Hail, Holy Queen' and one last prayer before you make the sign of the cross again." He paused for a moment. "Would you like me to teach you the prayers sometime?"

I nodded. "Yeah. That would be nice."

He smiled at me and stood. He took my hand. "Come on. You have another dance lesson."

_**

* * *

**_

A/N:

I figured it was time to slow down the pace. And yeah, I know I ignored Famke Janssen's actual height. It's fanfiction. Get over it.

German translations are as follows:

"_Und du hast __meine __Jacke__._" — "And you have my jacket."

Review, _bitte_!


	7. Chapter 7

**7. FINDINGS**

Life went on in much the same way for the next few weeks. Of course, Kurt did abstain from some things due to the beginning of Lent, but he continued my dance lessons.

One day, after we had finished, we decided to get some lunch. However, as we walked across the foyer, something white on the floor in front of the door caught my eye. I went over to it and picked it up.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, peering over my shoulder. Not such a difficult feat, that.

"It's a letter," I said. I opened the envelope, curious. But as soon as I read the letter, I wished I hadn't.

_Charles Xavier,_

_We know about your "school for the gifted." We know what really goes on in there. If you don't stop your training of mutants, then we will._

_Let this be a warning._

—_F.O.H._

"Oh, shit," I gasped.

"What?" Kurt inquired. "What's wrong?" Wordlessly, I handed him the letter. His eyes widened in alarm. "This is bad. We have to tell the Professor."

Using the wonderful art of speed-walking, we hurried to Xavier's office and waited for his class to end. After roughly three minutes, the students filed out and we burst in.

"Someone sent you a creepy letter," I blurted.

"Pardon me?" Xavier seemed confused.

"Here." Kurt gave him the letter.

Xavier's forehead creased with worry as he read. "Oh, dear," he murmured. He brought his hands to his temples and appeared to concentrate.

Jean came into the room half a minute later. "I'm here. Is something the matter?"

Xavier wheeled out from behind his desk. "Yes," he said gravely. "I believe our worst fears have been realized." He passed the letter to Jean.

"Oh my God." She covered her mouth with her hand. "Who are the F.O.H.?"

"I have no idea," Xavier admitted. "Are you picking anything up?"

Jean closed her eyes. "Yeah…there's a very strong mental signature here. I could try to pinpoint it on Cerebro." Cerebro was the mutant tracking device. It could only be used by telepaths.

Xavier looked relieved. "Thank you, Jean. Kurt, Elyon, you may go."

The red-haired telepath left with the letter. Kurt and I also took our leave.

"Cerebro can pick up on non-mutants now?" I queried when we were alone in the hall.

"No," Kurt replied. "Only Jean can do that. She has a lot more power since Wanda brought her back—not even the Professor can locate non-mutants without resetting the machine."

I frowned. What a puzzlement. Surely Xavier was the world's most powerful telepaths. But perhaps now, he was only one of the most powerful? I didn't know. It was all very confusing.

Rogue met us in the hall. "Hey, guys," she said.

"Hey, Rogue," I said. "Where's Bobby?"

"With some of the other guys," she responded. I guessed that she didn't want to talk about it. "Where are y'all coming from?"

"Professor Xavier got a letter—an intimidating letter," Kurt explained. He changed the subject. "Where is Peter? I want to speak with him."

"Out back with Bobby and them," Rogue said. Kurt nodded and went out. When he was out of earshot, Rogue wondered, "When are you two gonna start dating?"

Did I hear her correctly? "_What?_"

She seemed slightly flustered. "Well, it's just…you two are practically inseparable, and you act like a couple, so…"

"Don't be ridiculous." My face was flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. "It's not like that. Trust me. And besides, I've only known him for a little over a month."

She rocked back and forth on her heels. "Oh." She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Although, I _do_ think he's sweet on you." She clasped her gloved hands.

"He is _not_."

My instant rebuttal made her grin. "Whatever you say, sugar." With that, she went on her way.

I pursed my lips. Kurt and I didn't have anything like that, did we? I wasn't seeing it. But was that what everyone else thought?

Frustrated, I turned and went up the stairs to Bella's room. She was sitting at her desk, writing something in a pad of paper. She paused to gaze out the window before continuing her frenzied scribbling.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She turned. "Oh, hey. I'm writing."

I suddenly remembered that I was hungry. She sensed this and pulled a granola bar out of her desk. She tossed it to me and I was able to catch it without using my powers. I took the wrapper off and dropped it into her wastebasket. "Can I sit?" I bit into the granola bar.

"Yeah, sure. You can sit on the bed." She turned back to her paper.

I followed her instruction and finished the granola bar. "What are you writing about?"

"Ah, just a fiction story. It's kind of based on us and everyone here." She looked out the window again.

I followed her line of sight. Logan was working with some of the kids on the lawn. Of course she was watching him. "Are you gonna tell him?"

She put her pencil down. "I don't know. I want to, but it's so hard. Not to mention the fact that he's in love with Jean."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "He'll come to his senses eventually. You can read my mind if you don't believe me," I added for good measure.

She cracked a small smile. "Thanks." Her face went blank for a brief moment. Then she smiled again, only this smile was mischievous and slightly evil. "I hear Kurt is sweet on you." She laughed when I glared at her.

"Get out of my head," I growled.

She giggled. "Say no more."

I groaned. "Telepaths."

"Don't get mad," she said, writing something down. "I'm just pulling what Rogue said. I haven't read Kurt's mind in weeks. He can somehow sense when I do, so he always switches to German. It gets irritating.

"And besides, you're not the only one," she went on. "Peter is _very_ in love with Kitty. It's so cute, it hurts."

I couldn't help it; that gave me the warm fuzzies. "Aw." I got an idea. Since people seemed so interested in my interpersonal relationships, why not ask around about theirs? "Anything else?"

She looked up at the ceiling as she thought. "Scott is thinking about proposing to Jean. Rogue and Bobby are on the verge of a breakup."

"That's kind of sad," I remarked. Bobby and Rogue had been so nice together.

"Yeah. But Rogue thinks that if it happens, it's for the better. She doesn't want to hold him back."

We were quiet after that. The silence made me uncomfortable, so I stood. "See ya."

She gave me a little wave. "Bye." She went back to her writing.

* * *

Quite some time later, I lay on my own bed, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen now.

Who were the F.O.H.? Was Jean going to find their leader? Who _was_ their leader?

Aside from that, more things darted through my mind.

Would Scott propose to Jean? What would Logan do? What of Rogue and Bobby? Was Peter going to tell Kitty how he felt? How were relations with S.H.I.E.L.D. going? When would Bella, Pietro, Wanda and I get to go out as X-Men? Would our uniforms be ready soon? Could Bella muster the courage to tell Logan how she felt? Why could Logan only remember as far back as sixteen years? Who were Kurt's parents?

The last thought made me reluctantly question something else. Was Kurt sweet on me, as Rogue suspected?

I chuckled to myself. Of course not. Kurt was just my friend. Sure, he was closer to me than anyone else was to me, but this was because he was my first friend. It was only natural that I would be so attached. And people did tend to have the mentality that a male and a female could never have a relationship that was not romantic.

And yet…I wasn't Kurt's first friend. At the same time, I was one of the closest to him, every bit as close to him as Logan, if not more. The concept of him having those sorts of feelings for me was not implausible.

Granted, he probably hadn't realized it yet. Even if he had, I didn't suppose I minded. It would be quiet flattering, actually, despite the lack of reciprocation on my part.

I looked at the digital clock. It was already nine o'clock at night, so I decided to shower and get ready for bed.

* * *

I awoke from my nightmare with a start. I sat up in bed and rubbed my temples, trying to relieve my headache. Cautiously, I reflected on the dream.

It hadn't been about my scars this time. No, this time, Bella, Logan, Kurt, Rogue and Xavier were all there. All around us were red signs with "F.O.H." written in huge, black lettering.

We ran (well, Xavier rolled) as fast as we could, but the signs did not go away. However, through the gaps between them, I could see the silvery gleam of knives. Before I could warn the others, one of the weapons shot out, flying right towards…

"Bella," I moaned.

_Bamf!_

I squeaked and fell out of bed, landing on my side with a thud.

"Sorry," said Kurt, his quiet voice barely carrying. "Are you okay?"

I rose to my feet and rubbed my hip, feeling ornery. "Oh, yeah. Fan-freaking-tastic." I climbed into bed and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"Bella said you had a nightmare," he told me. I could barely see him perching on the footboard.

I froze. "She's never wrong." I felt ill.

He cocked his head inquisitively. Due to the darkness, I couldn't see his facial expression. "Do you want to talk about it?"

A sudden pain swept through my head, and I was almost certain that it would explode. I feebly attempted to hold it together with my hands. "No. I don't know what it means. I—I have to think!"

He moved to sit next to me. "You do think an awful lot," he noted. "Have you ever considered not thinking, and just _doing_?"

I looked up at him. The iridescence of his yellow eyes caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"

"Perhaps the reason you do not know the meaning of your dream," he said, "is because you're thinking over it so hard. Perhaps if you told me, it would come to you." He shrugged. "Trust your instincts."

Maybe he was right. I exhaled deeply. "Okay…in the dream, you were there, Rogue was there, the Professor, Bella and Logan were there…and there were these red signs surrounding us, with 'F.O.H.' written all over them. We tried to run, but the signs just made a hallway. There were knives behind the signs, but before I could warn you guys, a knife was thrown at Bella. And then I woke up." When I realized I was trembling, I calmed myself. On the other hand, I understood. "I think I get it."

"Do you?" His tone was skeptical.

I nodded, knowing that he could see me as well as in broad daylight. "The whole thing was so mysterious. I didn't know what was going on." I pursed my lips as my mind churned. "Maybe the shortage of knowledge is dangerous somehow. Yes, that must be it."

"Hmm…yes, that does make sense," he agreed. "Some of things in your dream could be symbols, too. The signs are easy—the F.O.H., whoever they are. But what of Bella?"

"Huh." I hadn't the foggiest. However, the more I dwelled on it, the more connections I made. "Well, Bella's a telepath. So maybe she represents a way of getting information. And the knife going for her could indicate that way of getting information is at risk."

Though I couldn't see him, I could feel the scrutiny of his gaze. "You may not want to admit it, Elyon, but…you are frightened." Bullseye.

"Yeah," I said reluctantly. "I'm frightened. But I don't see why it's such a big deal. Everyone gets scared sometimes." I scowled at the abyss.

"I know that," said Kurt. "But you are always so strong. Strong and cocky and smart and sarcastic…I can't imagine you feeling fear. It seems impossible."

I didn't argue about the adjectives he applied to me. What was the point in denying the truth? Instead, I remained silent.

He seemed to be analyzing me. "Tell me, _meine Freundin_…do you have bad dreams often?"

The concern in his voice moved me, and I had to dig around in my brain to decide how to answer him appropriately. "Yes. Not all of the time, but a lot." My breathing was shaky.

Suddenly, I felt something warm enveloping my upper body. It wasn't until he pulled me to him that I realized what was going on. Kurt was giving me a hug.

I didn't know what to do. A man who was not my father or an uncle or a cousin (though I had neither of the last two in that list) was hugging me. Should I hug him in return? Probably; it was the same basic principle, right? I had no idea. But the sensation of his arms around me in such an intimate gesture was nice. That simple fact led me to what I felt to be a proper conclusion. I wrapped my own arms around him in the same manner, resting my face against his bare chest.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be," I replied. "It's not your fault." There was no awkwardness in our embrace. It just felt…I didn't know. It felt more than nice.

He pulled away from me carefully. "Forgive me for asking," he began, "but what are your nightmares about?"

Oh, dear God. Why was I unable to lie to him? It could have something to do with his own honesty, but still. "It's usually only one recurring nightmare," I admitted. "About…about my scars." My arms tingled even as I said the words, and I grimaced.

"It hurts you." His observation was blunt and accurate.

I wrapped my arms around my midsection in an instinctive attempt to protect myself and close myself off from harm. "Kurt…for the longest time after they did that to me, I…I wanted to badly to _kill_ them." The truth was terrible. But most truths are. "And every time I have that nightmare, I get that feeling all over again. It makes me feel even more monstrous." I hung my head. "If I had my way, I'd be a monster. I _am_ a monster."

When next he spoke, his tone was severe. "Listen to me, Elyon," he ordered. I felt his hand under my chin as he turned my head to the right and tilted it up. I knew I was looking him in the eyes because they were the only things I could see. "You are _not_ a monster, nor will you ever be. Do you know how I know?"

"How?" I mumbled.

"You are not ruthless," he said with firm conviction. "You do not act wrongly, and you wouldn't enjoy it even if you did. You have a conscience, and you have a soul. Monsters are soulless and like to do wrong." He took a deep breath. "If I told you…" His voice trailed off; he was choking up. He tried again. "If I told you that I am a murderer, that I killed my own _brother_, would you think of me as a monster?"

"No!" My tone was vehement. "Of course I wouldn't! You're wonderful!" The light of his eyes distorted, seemed to sparkle, as though they were welling up with tears. I abruptly realized that the last thing he'd said had not been merely hypothetical. I gasped.

His grief devastated me. It crushed me to see him in pain like this.

Filled with empathy and the agony I knew he was experiencing, I cried out, "Oh, Kurt!"

Then he collapsed into my arms, and it was my turn to comfort him as he wept bitterly. He was overwhelmed with sadness and horror at the thing he had done, and he needed someone to tell him that it would be okay, that somebody still loved him, that God still loved him. He clung to me the way a child clutches his blanket after escaping the ever-ghoulish world of the subconscious, and I let him.

"Elyon," he whimpered helplessly.

I hugged him close to me, gently rubbing his back and combing through his curly mess of black hair with my fingers, like my mother had done with me when I was young. "Shh," I whispered. "It's okay, Kurt." I rested the side of my face against his head. "It's okay. We're all still your friends. We still love you. God still loves you. He's forgiven you." I wasn't sure if that was right, given that I wasn't certain of God's existence myself, but something told me it was. "It's okay, Kurt. I'm here. I'm here."

His silent sobs did not cease, even as he nuzzled against my shoulder. It was pitiful, and it broke my spirit.

As I sat there, holding the wounded demon-like man in my arms while he poured his sorrows out, something changed. It was like an earthquake ripped through my breast, tearing down my walls and causing my meticulously-built barriers to crumble, and I felt more connected to him than I ever had before with anyone. It was terrifying and uplifting at the same time.

A little voice within me told me what was going on. Kurt had overcome all the obstacles, succeeded in his search and found a special place in my heart.

_**

* * *

**_

A/N:

Aw, Elyon's going soft. Who knew?

Okay, here's a little challenge: If you think you can guess the rest of the plot, tell me, and I'll tell you whether or not you're right.

Review!


	8. Chapter 8

**8. FRIENDS**

The following morning, I sat alone at the kitchen island while I reflected on what Kurt had told me and all that had come to pass last night, both between us and within me.

Kurt had cried, and I comforted him, until he felt better. Then he had regarded the time, bid me farewell and left. I couldn't go back to sleep. I had too much to think about.

Now, I picked at a blueberry muffin with my fingers as I contemplated. We had really opened up to each other. Things were bound to be different now, of that I was certain. All it had taken was a little pathos. I wondered when the catharsis part would come in.

Bella walked in then. "Hey, Elyon," she said breezily.

I was shaken out of my daze. "Oh. Hi, Bella."

She got an oatmeal bar and leaned against the counter to eat it. "How's your boyfriend doing?"

I knew instantly about whom she was talking. I blushed, but I said nothing. This teasing was really beginning to get on my nerves.

She groaned. "Come on, Elyon. I'm only kidding."

"I know." I avoided her gaze.

Logan came into the kitchen. "Hey, Bella."

Her face flushed just barely. "Hey, Logan. What's up?"

"The usual." I didn't know why, but Logan's Canadian gruffness always brightened my mood. He turned his attention to me. "Ya look somber, Imp. Is somethin' the matter?"

Over the weeks, he'd come to treat me almost like a sister. "No."

"Something's bothering Kurt, though," Bella chimed in.

"Yeah, I know." Logan frowned. "I asked him a few minutes ago if he was okay, 'cause he didn't look it. But he said that he was fine, an' he didn't wanna talk about it."

Bella glanced at me. "I think _I _know what the problem is."

That did it. I quickly finished my muffin and speed-walked out. I had to get out of there before I wrung Bella's pale little neck.

The one bad thing about my courageous show of self-restraint was that now, I wasn't sure where to go. Perhaps the parlor would work. It was hardly ever used, and playing the piano would most likely calm me down. My mother had taught me to play, and I'd found a passion for it, mainly because it was the only way I could ease my frustrations and just let go. I could let go of the world, let go of my thoughts, let go of myself.

I sat on the piano bench and quickly decided on a piece I'd learned a while ago. I gave myself over to the keys and the music. I didn't even notice time going by.

When I was done, I looked up to see Kurt standing by the piano, watching me with awe. "That was amazing," he said. He wore his Rosary around his neck today, I noticed.

I felt suddenly shy. "Really?"

He nodded. "I didn't know you could play like that. It was beautiful, to say the very least." He sat down beside me.

"Thanks." I couldn't help but feel concerned for him. "Kurt…are you okay?"

"Yes." He exhaled deeply. "You know, you are the second person I've talked to about it. The first was an old friend of mine, a priest named Father Wagner, conveniently enough." He chuckled. "I am sorry if you are worried. I feel much better, I promise. In fact, I am glad I told you." He took my hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

I changed the subject. "Can you play?" I gestured with my free hand to the piano.

He raised an eyebrow conspiratorially. "Do not underestimate me." He let go of my hand to rest both of his on the piano, and the most incredible improvisational music spilled forth. My mouth fell open. He laughed and helped me to my feet. "Come on."

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"I want to teach you something," he said simply, leading me out to the middle of the floor.

"And what would that be?" I eyed him speculatively.

His expression became nonchalant. "Have you heard of the Viennese waltz?" When I only stared, he chuckled and then was serious. "We'll work on frame first. Stand up straight." I did. He seemed to remember something. "Hang on one second." In the blink of an eye and a puff of smoke, he disappeared. He came back just as quickly, my dancing shoes strapped over his wrist.

"Thank you." I took them from him and put them on. I straightened up again.

"Okay, then," he said. "Now, hold yourself so that your shoulders are back a little bit—no, no. Like this." He demonstrated. I tried to imitate him, and he shook his head. I made a face; he stepped behind me and positioned me himself. He moved back in front of me and tapped me on the forehead so that I leaned back slightly. "Much better."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks so much."

He shrugged before adjusting his own posture. "Now, we'll do the turns. They are always closed-position all around the whole room, and you must make sure that you step in time, _one_-two-three, _one_-two-three. The first set of turns, I'll step out to my left and forward, and you will step forward between my feet. Then on the pivot, I will step with my right foot, and you'll take the step out with your left, going in circles until we're done. And you must remember to take small steps." Then he placed his right hand on my upper back, between my shoulder blades, and took my own right hand in his left. "You got it?"

"Yeah." I put my left hand on his shoulder, and we were off.

As we spun, Kurt appeared to be impressed. "Not bad," he said. "Not bad at all." I tilted my head a bit to flash him a grin.

We soon ended up in the place where we began. "That wasn't so hard," I commented.

"It's strange, though," he mused. "Most people find it difficult to concentrate on all of that on the first try." He paused a beat. "What was your childhood like?" He seated himself on one of the sofas.

My childhood? "Fairly normal, I guess," I said, sitting next to him. "Except for going down to the reservation every other weekend, of course. I wasn't very social, though. I mean, I liked to voice my opinions and I liked for people to hear what I had to say, but I never really _talked_ to people. Not like this, anyway." I gestured to him, and then to myself. "I suppose I just felt out of place, somehow, like a tiger lily in a field of morning glories. I knew that no one else would understand me."

"And what led to these?" He touched one of my scars very lightly, so that I barely even felt it. "You do not have to be cautious," he said gently. "I only wish to know."

I hesitated. "I found out about my mutation when I was eleven," I said finally. "I was going through that insecure phase, and one day when I went shopping with my parents, I just wanted to disappear. And I did." I couldn't help but smile at the memory of my childishness. "My parents had suspected what I was all along, so they weren't surprised. My grandfather, Thomas Ryder, had been a mutant who could read people's emotions, and if he wanted to, he could control them.

"After that, I discovered a new mutation every year until I was fourteen. When I was twelve, I figured out I had telekinesis. At thirteen, I took away my mother's sense of sight when she tried to talk to me about my social life. Or rather, my lack thereof. And then, when I was fourteen, I used my, um, _strongest suit_ on my father. I just made him feel some needles, but it was a total accident regardless." I took a deep breath. "I hid myself well for the next seven years. I never told anyone. I never used my powers in public. I didn't even register when that stupid act was instituted. I lay low, and no one even thought that I wasn't fully human. But then, college ruined it for me."

"How did college ruin it for you?" Kurt inquired.

"I was attacked," I said bluntly. "I was in the parking lot outside the drug store, because I had just picked up cold medicine for my mom. I don't remember what he looked like 'cause it happened so fast, but when that big guy moved to grab me, instinct took over and _bam_! Hellfire. I ran to my mom's car after that. I didn't even notice that a classmate and some of his buddies were there."

Kurt's expression was that of sympathy. "What happened then?"

"Everything seemed fine," I replied. "I graduated with a bachelor's in psychology and one in performing arts. The ceremony went well, everything flowed according to plan. Summer was when things changed.

"I had gone shopping for more weather-appropriate clothes at the outlet mall. I saw some guys running behind the building, and I decided to investigate." I sighed. "It was a stupid decision. It turned out to be that peer and his friends, the guys who had seen me. I had fallen for their setup.

"Some of them had girlfriends who were coming over and trying to coax them back to their cars, but they didn't listen. Instead, they told me that they knew my secret, and that I would pay. They called me names like 'freak,' 'outcast,' 'mutie'…And then they pulled out the knives. I tried to fight back, but there were too many of them, and they managed to knock me down…and they started cutting me up." I rubbed my arms. "They all stepped back to admire their 'handiwork,' but just as my classmate moved to stab me, his girlfriend stepped in front of me and ordered him to stop. Her interference caused him to take them back to their cars. Before she left, his girlfriend apologized to me. I never say her again after that.

"Being a mutant, it didn't take me as long to heal as it would have for a normal person, so the bleeding stopped after a few minutes. I took my cell phone from my pocket and called the police. I told them I had been assaulted, they asked why and, since I didn't want to lie, I told them about my mutation. They hung up on me, and that was when I decided to leave that town." I looked up at Kurt. "On the bright side, my classmate got arrested for actual murder later. His girlfriend turned him in."

Kurt was glaring into the empty space ahead of him. "_Arschloch_," he grumbled. "If he tried to stab you now, I would make him regret his own birth. Although…" He turned to me. "I suppose if he had not tried to kill you, we never would have met, would we?"

I thought about that. "No. I guess not." The idea was inexplicably unappealing. I couldn't imagine not knowing Kurt.

He switched to a lighter subject. "Do you want to choreograph a dance?"

Was he kidding me? "Of course!" I exclaimed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Have you heard the song 'These Arms of Mine'?" he asked. I nodded. "Okay." He stood, took my hand and started choreographing, humming the song as he did so.

Something was nagging at me. "What was _your _childhood like, Kurt?"

"Colorful." He laughed. "My foster mother, Margali Szardos, found me in the reeds in the Danube, and the raised me alongside her real children, Amanda and Stefan. According to them, I was the son of a wealthy baron, Christian Wagner, who died shortly before I was born. Or so I was told; I was always aware that this was not exactly true. The Szardos family was Romani, and even though I grew up with them, I never thought of myself as a Roma. I thought of myself as a German. I don't even really remember the Romani language, except for _gadjo_, their word for a non-Roma.

"When I was young, Stefan and I made a pact. He made me promise that if he ever went mad and became a murderer, I would stop him by any means necessary, even if it meant killing him. Being a child, I didn't realize how big that promise was." He paused to help me with a dance move. "Here, you try this, and I'll do this."

I followed his instruction. "Like that?"

"Yes," he said. "That's perfect."

"Then what?" I wondered, getting pack on the topic of his past.

He knew what I was talking about. "When I was ten, Margali joined a circus as a fortune-teller. She was a sorceress, anyway, so it made sense."

"A sorceress?" I was skeptical.

"Surely magic doesn't seem so impossible now," he chastised me. "Anyway, Amanda and Stefan were both older than me, and the ringmaster asked them to join too. Amanda agreed to be an acrobat, but Stefan refused his offer. But one day, the owner saw me playing on the trapeze and other acrobatic equipment. He asked for my name, and I told him it was Kurt Wagner. Then he asked if I was the foster child of which Margali spoke, and I said yes. He asked me if I wanted to join his circus. I have a feeling you know what my answer was." He positioned my arms differently. "See, if you do this, I can spin you around."

He spun me close to him. "What happened after you joined?" I queried.

"I went through very hard training," he said. "The other people in the circus were like family. I even became good friends with my fellow acrobat, Werner Bohm. The most amazing thing was that no one cared what I looked like. Everyone liked me for me. Well, everyone except the owner. He hated me, though no one could figure out why. He abused me, really. The most he did for me was providing decent meals. Soon, though, I became the star acrobat, and he gave me an actual mattress to sleep on." His tone was cynical during that last part. "People thought I was just a regular person in a demon costume. They never suspected a thing."

"And the owner still hated you," I said.

"Yes. Now, let's go through what we have so far."

As we danced, I inquired, "And then?"

He went on with his story. "After I turned fourteen, there was an instant when I saw the ringmaster hit Margali. I stood up to him, and he goaded me to fight with him. I won, so he had his security guards go after me. I ran as far as I could, and when I heard them shooting at me, I panicked and wished to be far ahead of them. The next thing I knew, I was two miles away. I hid in the undergrowth of the forest until I knew they were gone. Then I fell asleep." He started choreographing the next part of the waltz before continuing.

"The next morning, I walked until I came to a cathedral. Mass was going on, so I stayed outside. But I listened to the sermon and everything, and I knew that I had to go in. When everyone had left, I went inside. The priest found me, and I remember being shocked by his lack of fear. He said he was called Father Wagner. I told him who I was and where I came from, and he said I could stay as long as I wanted to. He let me live with him in his little house, and three times every day I would sit in the little room behind the crucifix and listen to the Mass.

"I stayed with him for a while, at least a few months. His faith never stopped surprising me, and I wanted so badly to be a part of this thing which gave him such strength. I believed God had sent me there for a reason; I still do. Finally, one day, right around Easter, I asked Father Wagner to baptize me. He did, and shortly afterwards I participated in the Eucharist, I went to confession and I prayed for the dead. I handled penance by myself. Father Wagner said it wasn't necessary, but I told him it served as a reminder to me. It reminded me how I should live my life for the One who made me the person I am, and who led me to the discovery of my faith."

He was talking about his scars. "One for every sin," I remembered.

He smiled softly at me. "Yes, that's right."

"What happened after that?" I was getting very curious.

"My family came for me," he said. "I had no choice but to go back. I visited Father Wagner at least twice a year, though. He gave me a Rosary before I left." He touched the one he wore around his neck.

"I stayed at that circus for seven more years," he went on. "Stefan moved back to our hometown, Winzeldorf. Then, Margali, Amanda, Werner and I were hired by the Munich Circus. I was proud of myself, but I was never really happy. So, after a few shows, I quit and went home. Stefan welcomed me.

"Soon, I began to hear of multiple killings in the town, and it wasn't long before I figured out that Stefan was the culprit. I fought him in the empty square, and…Well, you know what happened." He let out the breath he'd been holding. "The people, of course, ended up thinking _I _was guilty of all the murders, and they ganged up on me. Some had blowtorches, some had pitchforks. A lot of them had guns. I ran and hid in my old house, terrified.

"The next night, Amanda showed up. She and Werner were a couple, so she brought him along. They told me that Margali had found out by word-of-mouth, and that she was furious. They hurried me to Father Wagner's and the three of them arranged for me to sneak onto a cargo ship at the docks of France, bound for America.

"I hadn't been in Boston for a week when Colonel Stryker captured me. He took me to the base at Alkali Lake and used me as one of his test subjects. He forced me to learn English, or at least more than I already knew, thought I'm not angry over that now. He used his mind control serum to make me attack the President, and you know the rest."

He was right—his past was colorful. "You know, I used to think my life sucked," I said. "Now I realize that it's not me at all. It's just a crapsack world."

He laughed. "On the bright side, we have friends who want to help us make the world less of a crapsack."

I cracked up and had to work to catch my breath. I suddenly thought of something. "I never had any friends before I met you, Kurt," I confessed. "I just wanted you to know. And I wanted to thank you."

Kurt pulled me into a warm hug. "You're welcome," he said. He pulled back. "Let's go over the waltz."

As we waltzed, I began to notice just how romantic and sensual the dance was, but I didn't let that bother me. It was a dance between friends, and nothing more.

* * *

Later in the day, as I sat in the den watching the news—nothing too eventful, just reports of gas prices and celebrity antics—I heard Xavier's voice.

'_Everyone, get to my office immediately.'_ He sounded urgent, so I stopped what I was doing and followed the order. I wondered if Jean had found out anything on the F.O.H.

When I got to the office, Logan, Bella, Ororo, Scott, Jean, Hank and Kurt were already there. I stood with Kurt by the wall. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Jean knows who the F.O.H. are," Kurt replied. "We are waiting for the others to get here so they can know, too. Are you okay? You look shaken."

"I'm fine," I said. "Just a little freaked." I really was.

Soon, Warren, Peter, Kitty, Wanda, Pietro, Dani, Jubilee, Bobby and Rogue came in.

Xavier waited for everyone to get settled before speaking. "I have called you here to share some very important information with you," he said. "Jean?"

Jean rose to her feet, commanding our attention. "The F.O.H. is a secret organization called the Friends of Humanity," she said. "They operate in the Colorado Rockies. From what I could tell, they experiment on mutants before exterminating them." Her tone was smooth, even, but I could tell that she was seething under the surface. It was easy to see the fiery light in her eyes.

"What are we going to do?" Kitty was worried.

"We will prepare," said Xavier. "Kitty, after Jean finds out who their leader is, I'll need you to find out anything you can. Bella, I'll need you to help Jean on Cerebro." Kitty and Bella both nodded. "Everyone else, we must be ready. Real training will begin tomorrow morning. There is no telling whether they will make the first move."

I could feel everyone's tension. Their terror, their disgust.

We would likely be going up against an entire anti-mutant army.

The Friends of Humanity.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Well, there you have it. I changed some histories and stuff, but I hope you like it anyway. Oh, and I honestly don't know that much about the Friends of Humanity (please don't come and scalp me or shoot me with darts or throw tomahawks at me!), so I'm just kind of making them my own thing. Okay? Okay.

German translations are as follows:

"_Arschloch_" — "asshole" (yes, Kurt cussed; it's really not a big deal)

Review, please!

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	9. Chapter 9

**9. CREED**

It took Jean and Bella two weeks to find anything on Cerebro. This was partly because Jean had to teach Bella how to use the machine, and even so, it was Jean's job to find the leader of the Friends of Humanity. (I still couldn't believe those torturing murderers called themselves human.)

I was excited when Bella told me that they'd gotten something. "What is it?" I asked.

"His name," she said. "Graydon Creed."

I couldn't help but be disappointed. "That's it?" Tension colored my tone.

"Relax," she shrugged. "Kitty's going to find out who he is. There's no need to get all high-strung."

Whatever. It still seemed inadequate for the twenty-first of April.

However, it wasn't long before Kitty and Peter (who were, in fact, a couple now, even as Bobby and Rogue had subtly broken off their own relationship) found more. Apparently, this Graydon Creed used to be an important military scientist at the Pentagon. He'd then been caught performing illegal experimentation and was arrested, and his tarnished record caused the government to forbid him from ever returning to the Pentagon. The curious thing was the motivation behind his involvement with the F.O.H. What had mutants ever done to him?

Luckily, I had Kurt to keep up my spirits. His mood brightened considerably in light of the Easter season, and he gladly worked with me to perfect our waltz. He also taught me how to pray the Rosary.

It came about that, on the last Thursday of the month, he taught me one last thing; I remembered everything else perfectly, but this one was harder, so I wrote it down as he said it.

He began, "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended into Hell. On the third day He rose again. He ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. Amen." He watched me as I jotted down the last part in my pad of paper. "How long do you think it will take you to memorize that?" We were sitting in the parlor.

I scrawled "The Apostles' Creed" across the top of the sheet. "A while, probably." I recalled something I'd meant to ask about. "Kurt?"

"_Ja?_"

Weighing my words carefully, I said, "Rogue, Bella and Kitty all seem to think that you…like me." I hesitated in naming the not-so-preposterous idea.

He thought about that, furrowing his brow. "We are very good friends," he replied. "Nothing more."

For some reason, that irked me. "Oh."

He changed the subject. "Do you have your dancing shoes?" When I nodded, he went on, "Then let's go over the waltz." He stood while I put on my shoes. He put the CD in the little stereo he'd brought down, and we took our positions. I was a bit nervous, since it was our first time doing this with music. The abridged version of the song started to play, and we began to dance.

"_These arms of mine, they are lonely, lonely and feeling blue._" Even as soon as we did the first motions, my heart started racing. At first I thought it was the adrenaline of adding a new element to the dance, but the more I pondered the lyrics, the more I saw that was not the case.

"_And if you would let them hold, oh, how grateful I will be!_" An unexplainable joy filled me past the brim as we twirled, and when I held his face close to mine he smiled softly at me, and a blush flooded my face. Instead of embarrassment or annoyance, this blush was caused by a feeling I could not quite put my finger on.

"_Come on, come on, please let them! Just be my little woman! Just be my lover!_" We spun, and so did my head. I giggled inwardly at "little woman," since I was one. Somehow, I knew that I was not just getting into the moment.

"_I need me somebody, somebody to treat me right. I need your arms, loving arms to hold me tight._" He literally swept me off my feet, and my heart soared in my breast. We ended in a low dip and, for the first time, I was utterly speechless.

He pulled me up so I was standing before hugging me and kissing my forehead. Unthinking pleasure swelled within me when his lips made contact with my skin. "That was fantastic," he whispered.

I felt breathless, despite the brevity of the dance. As I stared into Kurt's face, I noticed that he was heartbreakingly handsome. Was I truly that dense? Had I honestly gone that long without realizing how attractive he was? Or had I always known, and simply shoved it to the back of my mind due to its irrelevance?

The emotion I felt was unable to be defined. I was happy and sad and yearning, and there was a growing warmth in my chest, as well as the desire for Kurt to hold me closer. What _was _this? I hated it and adored it at the same time.

It all seemed so sudden, too, though something told me it wasn't. Something told me that I'd been nurturing this feeling for a while, and it had just now grown strong enough to come out of its shell. I just hadn't expected it.

"Hey." Bella came into the parlor, and intuition informed me that only two seconds had passed. All of that had cycled through my brain much quicker than I'd thought. "Logan says that there's a surprise for us in the Danger Room. We'd better go."

Kurt and I pulled out of our embrace, I changed shoes, and we went over to her. As we walked, what he'd said came to mind.

Yes, he'd said we were nothing more than very good friends, but he had sounded almost dissatisfied. Did he wish we had something more? Did _I_? Certainty escaped my grasp.

Bella watched me with a concerned expression. "Is something wrong? You have that look on your face, like you're thinking about something dire."

"No." I lied only for Kurt's sake. Who knew how he'd react if he learned I was considering him in this new way? Besides, if Bella really wanted to know, she could just read my mind.

I glanced at my good-looking blue friend. His eyes met mine and I looked away. No heat came to my face, but I felt just as embarrassed. On the bright side, his eyes were a lovely shade of yellow-gold.

My God. What the hell was wrong with me? I was losing my mind!

I heard Bella gasp in my head. _'You like him!'_

_I don't know what you're talking about,_ I thought wryly.

'_Kurt. You _like _him. Right?'_

I sighed mentally. _I don't know, to be perfectly honest. Do I?_

'_Hmm…Well, you enjoy spending time with him. He makes you laugh more than anyone else can—and he doesn't even have to try.' _We started down the elevator. _'You think he's charming and you care about him. He makes you feel good about yourself. There's certainly an emotional bond, as well as a minor psychic link, since you're sensitive to what he's feeling.'_

_How is that a psychic link?_ I wondered.

'_Just part of your powers. Going on…He's really helped you access your spirituality and your ability to understand others. That waltz you did just now—which was really pretty, by the way—definitely gave you more than just butterflies. And you find him very attractive. I understand that, even though the whole thing with being blue throws you off a bit at first. Anyway, yes, I'd say you are undoubtedly crushing on him.'_

I groaned, but only in my mind. _Great._ This was really going to ruin my reputation.

'_Look, I know it's not good for your current image, but it can't be that bad.' _Her tone was reassuring. _'In any case, what are you going to do about it?'_

_I don't know,_ I grumbled again. _Besides, it doesn't matter right now. We're here._

The doors of the Danger Room opened to reveal Logan standing in the center. A large chest was on the floor next to him. Wanda and Pietro were already there.

"Now that we're all here," Logan said, "I have something for the newbies. Something beyond your wildest imaginations." He opened the chest and pulled a large of piece of black cloth with something red hanging from it out of the chest. "Leather." He tossed it to Wanda. It dawned on me that we were finally getting our uniforms.

I grinned widely. It had taken them long enough.

"Excited, Imp?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Nah." I shifted my weight to one leg, exuding faux nonchalance. "I've only been waiting nearly two months for this."

"You're lucky," Logan smirked. "This one's yours." He tossed the next uniform to me. I stopped it in mid-air with my telekinesis and brought it safely over to me. I didn't want it to touch the floor. Logan proceeded to give uniforms to Pietro and Bella. "Go put this on and then meet me back here. We're gonna see if you can get used to them. Elf, since you're here to stay this time, I have one for you, too."

We all headed out with the uniforms. I walked by Kurt, trying very hard not to think of the telepathic conversation Bella and I had. Instead, I mused, "Is it just me, or is Logan in a good mood today?"

Kurt brought his hand to his forehead in an overly exasperated manner. "I _told _Pietro that giving him coffee was a terrible idea." He pretended to lament. "The world shall come to ruin! Whatever are we to do?"

I laughed along with him. "You are a complete cornball," I said.

"Cornball?" He looked confused. It was actually kind of cute. "_Was ist das__?_"

"You know, like a wonderful ball of corny goodness," I explained. "It's a compliment."

"_Ah, ich verstehe._" He nodded slowly as it sunk in. "Thanks. I think."

We parted at the junction which divided the women's and men's changing rooms.

The space was similar to a fitting room, with a few individual cubicles that each had their own shelves and mirrors. I went into one, closed the door and stripped down to my underwear in order to put on the uniform.

It was like the others, with shoulder padding and boot-cut legs and all that jazz, and it had deep purple trim. I was immensely pleased to find that rather than the more feminine variant, I had a pair of clunky combat boots. I put on the gloves and zipped up the jumpsuit. At first, I had my whole chest covered, but I figured that this made me look uptight, so I unzipped it some so that the bottom of the zipper reached the piping of the empire waist. Then I tied my hair back in a low ponytail and set out.

Wanda met me in the main room. "Nice," she commended me.

"You too," I said. Wanda's uniform had red trim like Jean's but it was considerably brighter. She also had a knee-length cape of the same color attached to the shoulders, and she wore the zipper like mine.

Bella emerged then in her orange-trimmed uniform. She also wore her zipper like me and Wanda, and she and Wanda both had more girly boots. "Let's go."

Kurt and Pietro met us in the junction. Pietro's uniform had blue trim of a darker shade than Bobby's but it wasn't as dark as Warren's cobalt. Kurt's trim was a deeper shade of crimson than Wanda's, but lighter than Jean's. He also had specially-made gloves and boots for his fingers and toes, and there was a hole in the suit at the base of his spine to accommodate his tail.

When we got to the Danger Room, Logan was in his uniform too. "Okay," he said. "So, we're gonna run an obstacle course, just to break in the leather. Sting, you're first." He took out a stopwatch.

Out of nowhere, hurdles and beams and things that would try to squish me appeared.

"You'll start here," said Wolverine, pointing to a spot. I moved to the place and readied myself. "Go."

I took off as fast as I could. I had to use my telekinesis to prevent some things from making a Sting sandwich, but it was otherwise easy. Reaching the end didn't take long at all.

"One minute and twenty-three seconds," Wolverine affirmed.

Nightcrawler's eyes were wide as I went back to our group. "I keep wondering when the day will be that you no longer impress me," he said. "I don't think it will come."

I blushed with pride and happiness. On the periphery, I saw Bella discreetly giving me a thumbs-up. I rolled my eyes.

"Nightcrawler," Wolverine called. "You're up."

As I watched the demon-like man move through the course, I was struck with amazement.

The way he leaped over the hurdles…the grace of his evasive somersaults…the smoothness of his body as he swung from bar to bar…the focused look on his face…It was beautiful. _He _was beautiful. In all my life, I'd never seen anything so awe-inspiring, and I was glad it was this.

_

* * *

_

I pushed my legs harder, forcing myself onward as quickly as possible. But he was so far ahead!

_Intuition told me that he was dying. That alone was my motivation. He needed me as much as I needed him. I felt like I couldn't live without him. I couldn't live without his kind words, his charm, his humor, the musical sound of his laughter or his handsome face. Without him, my existence seemed meaningless._

Come on, Sting! _I told myself. _Hurry!

_I tripped and fell. Something was wrong there—I never tripped, never stumbled, never fell._

_I picked myself up in a hurry. The point of being alive was lost if I didn't reach him in time._

_There, up ahead! He lay only thirty feet in front of me._

_He cried out for me in anguish._

"_No!" I shrieked. This couldn't be happening. "Kurt!"_

* * *

When I awoke, I squeezed my eyes shut, for fear of what I might see, and clutched my pillow to my chest. The residual terror had yet to dissipate.

"Oh, God," I whispered. "Oh, God."

This nightmare had been ten times worse than all the ones I'd previously had put together. The thing which made it awful was its lack of clarity.

What was going on? Where was I? Why was Kurt dying? Who had harmed him? When was all this occurring? How had this happened?

Somehow, I knew the answer. Creed. Graydon Creed.

Very slowly, I opened my eyes and got out of bed. I carefully made my way to my bathroom. I flipped on a light and took a washcloth from the linen closet. Then I put the washcloth under some cold water, soaked it, turned off the faucet, wrung out the cloth and wiped it across my sweaty face.

For a reason I didn't know, I found myself kneeling to pray.

"God, why are You doing this to me?" I implored desperately. "Why are You torturing me like this? Is there something I'm not getting that You need me to see? I understand that my faith I low. But I'm trying! So why am I having these horrible dreams? _What_ is Your point?" I looked up at the ceiling. "Is anyone even there?"

Something hit me, some consuming worry. _Bella? Bella, can you hear me? Bella!_

'_Ugh, yeah, I hear you.' _Even her psi voice was groggy. _'Is something wrong?'_

_No, nothing's wrong. I just need to know…is Kurt okay?_

'_Kurt's fine. Why?'_

_I had a nightmare. It's not that important—it just made me feel a bit paranoid._ I mentally heaved a sigh of relief. He was okay. I could rest easy.

'_Elyon, are you sure you're all right?'_

_Yes, Bella._

'_Okay. Just don't worry about him so much. He can handle himself.'_

_Whatever you say. Goodnight._

'_Goodnight.'_

Right now, I couldn't care less about what she said I should do. We were inevitably going to battle a potentially very dangerous organization, and she was asking me not to be concerned? It was entirely ludicrous! If Logan didn't have the ability to just heal from practically everything, Bella would be worried sick; I was sure of it.

Dreams were a projection from the subconscious into the conscious, cognitive mind. They could often reveal hidden truths, cryptic meanings, misinterpreted feelings. To that end, I put the thoughts I'd had in my waking state together with what I'd experienced in the nightmare.

Kurt was the first person with whom I'd been comfortable in befriending. He'd given me a home. He made me laugh. He'd convinced me I was worth something. I liked being with him, and he made me feel good. He was attractive. He was a gentleman. He was my best friend. I was previously aware of all this.

Then there were the things which the dream had told me.

His wellbeing was of the utmost importance to me. If anyone ever hurt him, I would make that person suffer. I felt as though I'd die without him.

The conclusion I reached baffled me.

I was baffled because I wasn't "crushing on him," as Bella had said. She had been wrong, for once. No, no, I most certainly was not crushing on him. There was only one way to describe how I felt about Kurt, and I knew it was the right way because I'd felt pretty much every emotion before, and this one was entirely new.

I was in love with him, and I couldn't do anything about it.

_**

* * *

**_

A/N:

Well, there isn't much I can say about this chapter, since it kind of speaks for itself. I'm aware that it's short, but whatever. And if it's slow for you, all I gotta say is that at least it's a step up.

Sorry I seem so down in the dumps; my cat just recently had a stroke, and I'm really worried about him. He's been with my family for twelve years. Please keep him in your prayers!

German translations are as follows:

"_Was ist das__?_" — "What is that?"

"_Ah, ich verstehe._" — "Oh, I understand."

Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

**10. UNKNOWN**

I woke up in the morning with a lighthearted eagerness. I couldn't wait to see Kurt today, though I dreaded it at the same time.

I dressed quickly, brushed my hair and headed out. There was an extra spring in my step, and I felt like I was walking on air. I soon discovered that this was precisely the case; I was so emotionally off-kilter (for me, anyway), my telekinesis was causing me to levitate. I carefully lowered myself.

"Hey, Elyon!" Bella called from behind me. She ran to catch up with me. "You seem a lot happier than you sounded last night. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing," I replied breezily. I had only realized that I'd fallen in love with Kurt. It wasn't anything big. Okay, scratch that. It was huge.

Bella squealed and squeezed me like she was a little girl and I was a china doll. "Ooh, Elyon!" she squeaked. "That is too cute! Oh, I always thought you and Kurt would make an adorable couple!"

"Can you keep it down?" I hissed, stopping on the second floor landing to glare at her. "I don't want anyone to know yet, least of all Kurt."

"Why not?" Bella whined childishly. "It's so sweet!" Okay, her behavior was really starting to irk me. She was twenty-five years old, for crying out loud!

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "I'm not ready for him to know just yet," I said sheepishly. "And besides, I don't even know if he feels the same way." We started down the stairs again.

Bella looked about her nonchalantly. "I could find out for you."

"No!" I exclaimed vehemently. "No mind-reading! I want to figure it out on my own." We entered the kitchen.

"Ego issues?" She raised an eyebrow and retrieved a box of cereal.

I sighed. "Oh, yeah." I poured myself a bowl and got the milk. Then I got a spoon, sat down and started to eat.

Bella sat beside me at the island. "Well, are you ever going to tell him?"

"I don't know." I was eating too quickly, so I slowed down. "I'd rather wait a little bit first. Just to be sure, you know?"

"Yeah." She took a few bites of her own food. "Although…if you told Kurt, I'd probably tell Logan." She was talking about her own feelings.

"Seriously?" My eyes widened. She nodded.

Wanda came in then. "Hi," she said. She sat down at the island without getting anything to eat.

"Hey," I said. "How are your sessions with the Professor going?" Since the whole brought-back-from-the-dead ordeal, Xavier had been helping Wanda to control her reality-warping ability.

"They're going well," Wanda said. "I don't even feel a connection to the fabric of reality anymore. And yesterday, I found out that I can talk to the dead."

Bella seemed intrigued. "What do you mean by that?"

"Spirits," Wanda explained. "Souls that are stuck here. Kind of like ghosts. The Professor says that I send a part of my own soul out, so I can see them, and they can see me. There aren't a lot in the mansion, but the ones who are here have fascinating stories. The Professor also says that if I were around at the moment of a person's death, I might be able to convince the soul to return to its body. Learning to do that could take up to a year of training, though. So, what were you talking about before I got in here?"

"Nothing," I said quickly.

'_Brace yourself,' _Bella whispered. _'They're coming.' _Snap.

_Just act the way you usually do, Elyon, _I told myself. _It shouldn't be that difficult._

'_I wouldn't be so confident.'_

_Are you trying to give me a complex?_

'_Sorry! Jeez.'_

When Logan and Kurt did enter, my bloodstream was merciful and did not redirect all the blood to my face. My heart, however, decided to torture me by beating like a hummingbird's wings.

"Hey, ladies," Logan said, leaning against the counter.

"_Hallo,_" Kurt said. He moved to stand next to me.

I was very careful to make not looking at him appear as natural as possible. "Hey."

Wanda scrutinized me. Something dawned on her, and she got up. "I'd better go. The Professor needs me for another session." She left, and Bella and I were left alone with the men who set our pulses racing.

It was the worst non-lethal situation a woman could be in, ever.

Kurt seated himself beside me. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

"How could you tell?" I asked sarcastically. I figured it was safe to look at him now.

He was watching me with a steady, concerned gaze. "You look tired. Content, but tired." He paused a beat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." I left it at that.

He waited for a moment, most likely to make sure I was all right. "Okay." He turned his golden eyes away from me. "Logan, should we start training?"

"Yeah." Logan straightened up. "We'll do hand-to-hand first, then we'll work in the Danger Room. Sound good?" We all nodded, and Logan led us down to the lower levels.

As we walked, Kurt studied me intently. I could feel a blush slowly creeping to my cheeks. "Is there something bothering you, Elyon? If so, I would like to help."

I jammed my hands into my pockets. "No, nothing's bothering me." I pretended to take an interest in my moccasins. My face burned.

His stare could still be felt, though. "You're blushing," he remarked, sounding slightly bemused.

"Am I? That's weird." God, I was so _bad_ at this. There might as well be a zeppelin floating across the sky with a huge flashing sign: ELYON'S IN LOVE WITH KURT! How did Bella make it look so easy?

'_You have to loosen up,' _Bella told me. _'Be yourself.'_

_Thanks, _I thought gratefully.

'_No problem.'_

Of course, it would have been no problem if Kurt didn't make me all weak-kneed. But the spring session went well, and by the time we were done with the Danger Room, I was able to act normal again. Mostly, anyway.

In spite of all this, something was…not right. There was a tension in the air, and it made me uneasy.

It made Logan, Bella and Kurt uncomfortable too, to the point that we didn't sleep that night. Instead, we all stayed up, watching the random movies that came on television. Logan and Kurt did have a couple beers (it wasn't something I minded, since I found out that neither of them could come even close to getting drunk). Bella graciously refused Logan's offer of a beer, saying that she didn't drink. I had to give a whole explanation of how my liver didn't have the enzymes necessary to successfully break down alcohol. "It's an Indian thing," I said.

At around one-thirty in the morning, Logan and Bella departed, leaving me and Kurt alone on the couch in the den.

"Now that it's just us…" Kurt changed the channel to some music. "Are you ready to tell me about your nightmare?"

The music and the dim lighting made me a little nervous. At the same time, I found it harder to give him a negative answer. "Yeah." I took a deep breath. "Everything was dark, and I was running. I was running because you needed my help. You were…you were dying, Kurt." I was choking up, but no tears came. I felt silly and embarrassed. "I was so scared."

Sympathy on his face, he pulled me into a warm hug. "Ah, Elyon," he murmured. "Don't worry. I am not going anywhere."

I sat up to look at him. Something about the way the light fell across his face, and the soft music and the luminescence of his eyes, made me want to kiss him. An unexpected rush of heat flashed across my skin. His lips were mere inches from mine. All I had to do was shift a little closer and they would touch.

Suddenly, I was aware of the actual scent of him. I had half-expected him to smell like brimstone, but this was not the case. He actually smelled very nice and fresh, even though I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. Pine? Or maple? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it smelled really good.

Holding myself back was becoming more difficult by the millisecond, and it was probably showing on my face. What was I going to say to him? "Kurt…"

"Wait." He lightly placed his finger over my lips and looked to something beyond me; I felt my face flush. "Do you hear that?" He took my hand and stood. "Footsteps." He turned off the television.

Now that I listened closely, I heard them. Terror froze my heart. Quietly, Kurt and I made our way over to the archway. Kurt peered out, since it was too dark for someone without night vision to see anything.

"There are eight men, all dressed in black, wearing helmets and carrying tranquilizer guns. They have red armbands that say F.O.H. in black letters," he reported in a near-silent whisper. "The front door is open."

Fear seized me. "Kurt, the _kids_!"

"I know, Elyon." He was afraid, too. "Can't you use your power on them?"

I shook my head. "They're wearing helmets. I won't be able to get inside their minds."

An idea came to me. Xavier shared a constant telepathic rapport with everyone who lived in the mansion. If I cried out to him, then he would most likely call the other X-Men into action. _Professor, can you hear me? There are F.O.H. agents in the mansion! I don't know how they got in—they hacked into security or something—but Kurt and I are down here alone. Help us! We need backup!_

In the meanwhile, I took Kurt's hand and phased us into invisibility. "Sneak attack," I muttered. "Come on."

We tiptoed around to the foyer, where the men were. I focused on the shortest one and pushed him with my psi hands. He fell backward with a yelp.

"Whoa! What was that?" The man picked himself back up. "Did something hit any of you?"

"No…," said another, trailing off. "It must be a mutant!"

"Well, they're none too bright," I said in a muted voice.

Kurt held back a laugh and teleported us to the central banister on the staircase. I stood on the landing, since I wouldn't be able to balance nearly as well.

"Whatever," said a third. "I'm checking back here." He started down the hall. Just as soon as he rounded the corner, I heard someone punch him in the face.

With an enraged roar, Logan burst out, rushing at the men even as ten more came through the door. Scott, Ororo, Jean, Bobby, Hank, Peter and Kitty came rushing down the stairs to join the brawl. Five more agents entered as Wanda and Pietro ran down to join them.

Kurt 'ported down. I saw Bella emerge from behind the same corner as Logan. For a moment, I watched Kurt fight, delivering rapid punches and teleporting away before the enemy knew what had hit him.

I couldn't stay up here forever, though. Keeping myself invisible, I threw myself from the banister, softening my landing with telekinesis. I picked out an agent on the fringe of the scrap and proceeded to punch and kick him.

He would turn to hit me, but I'd dodge him and get in another blow. It was actually quite funny. Frustrated, he growled, "Who the hell_ are_ you?"

I giggled as I telekinetically unclasped his helmet. I brought it over to me and held it in my hands. He looked freaked. I made myself visible again and smiled in a way that was demonically cheerful. "Hi!" I conducted the helmet up. "Bye!" I hit him in the head with it. He collapsed, unconscious.

Somehow, I ended up at the foot of the stairs. I realized that Kurt had teleported me here. He was still next to me, so I gave him a confused expression. "Someone was going to tranquilize you," I said.

"Oh." That was really nice of him. I was grateful. "Thanks."

An agent who wasn't fighting noticed us. He tapped one of his buddies on the shoulder. "Hey! There he is—the one the boss wanted!"

The buddy turned. "Well, whaddya know! It _is_! And look, he's got a little girlfriend." He studied me further. "A _real_ little girlfriend."

I would have made an indignant retort, but Kurt teleported us away before I could. On a side note, he hadn't denied what the agent said. That didn't mean I was actually his girlfriend, but the notion wasn't that bad.

Now we were in the den again, hiding behind the couch. I looked to Kurt. "I'll go out there," I whispered. "It's you they're after, not me."

He nodded. "Okay. Be careful."

"I will." I made myself invisible and rose to my feet. Sure enough, three agents were now creeping into the den. "He's around here somewhere," one of them said. "I can smell sulfur."

There was no way I was going to let them take my Kurt. Angered, I bombarded the one who'd spoken with psychic attacks. I even took off his helmet so I could use my hellfire on him.

The others were shocked when their comrade crumpled to the ground, screaming. "It's that little one!" another shouted. "_She's_ doing this! Find her!" The two spread out, their arms outstretched like blind men. They stumbled about, almost as though they were afraid they might step on me.

I felt insulted. I wasn't _that_ small.

One man got too close to the couch for my liking. Without thinking, I darted over and started jabbing at his sides. In response, he reached out, trying to locate me. He managed to clip me on the head, and using this as a lead, he took hold of my long hair and pulled on it with force.

Pain, shock and fury possessed me to shriek. I lost concentration and was once again plainly visible. "Let me go!" I demanded. He tugged harder on my hair, and I winced. More than anything, I was affronted. How dare this brute touch my hair, my pride?

"Get your hands off her!" Someone kicked my captor in the head, making him release his hold on me and fall over. I smiled in relief, even though I still felt violated. Kurt!

On the downside, we were being cornered against the wall by the remaining agent. "Two birds with one stone," he crowed. "This is my lucky day."

A sudden gust of wind swirled around him, dizzying him. As he dropped to the floor with a moan, the source of his disorientation stood before us protectively. It was none other than Pietro.

"You won't lay a finger on them," Pietro spat as the agent sat up. "Even if you try, I'll see to it that you fail."

"Oh, really?" The agent stood and made a move. He was met by a series of super-fast punches from Pietro.

Cleverly, Pietro ran circles around the agent, delivering blows the entire time. I was impressed with him.

I began to edge my way back to the foyer. Kurt seemed puzzled. "Come on," I beckoned. "Let's go help the others. They might need it." I was soon proven wrong.

Logan was handling himself pretty well, even though ten more agents had intruded since we'd been in here. Bella had a few passed-out agents in a corner while she probed their minds. Scott used his optic blasts whenever it was necessary, and when he was certain he wouldn't break anything. Ororo had struck one man with lightning. Hank was bashing a couple guys' heads together. Peter surprised a man when he reacted to a tranquilizer dart fired at him by turning into metal. Kitty was phasing through people like crazy. Jean had three guys tied up in a telekinetic net. Bobby had frozen a few guys together, and I saw more convulsing on the floor due to Rogue's poisonous touch. Wanda had hypnotized two guys so that they were beating up on each other.

Kurt and I threw ourselves into the fray. We wanted to make sure these mooks got the message: Don't mess with us.

I saw Pietro run out the front door, though he was barely more than a blur.

"Get him!" one of the scarce men still standing yelled. They ran after him. The one Pietro had been fighting limped behind.

_Oh, no,_ I panicked. _No, no, no, no, no!_

The others shared my fear. Together, we followed. What we encountered shook me to my core.

Pietro lay on the front lawn, tranquilized. The agents picked him up and carried him to their helicopter, too fast for us to catch them. Then the helicopter took off, Pietro inside of it.

"_No!_"Wanda screamed. "_Pietro!_" Her screams became heart-wrenching sobs.

Bella took the weeping woman into her arms and comforted her. Kurt fell to his knees in prayer. I was just trying to make myself believe that all this had truly come to pass.

Up ahead, I saw a piece of paper on the ground. I went over to it and picked it up. It was a note.

_Charles Xavier,_

_We warned you._

—_F.O.H._

* * *

_**A/N:**_ I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. It's been a really rough month for me. My cat died the day after I posted the last chapter, and four days ago my grandfather was killed in a tragic accident. I've been spending time with my grandmother, and I went to the funeral and burial services the Sunday and yesterday, respectively; under the circumstances, I have not wanted to type. But I'm back now, so it's all good.

Yeah, I'm not the best at writing action sequences, but I'm working on it.

German translations are as follows:

"_Hallo_" — "hello" (obviously)

Don't forget to review, please—it's the only way I can know how to improve.

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	11. Chapter 11

**11. ENIGMA**

"Are you certain this is all they left behind?" Xavier asked as he held the note. Scott, Jean, Ororo, Bella, Hank, Logan, Wanda, Bobby, Peter, Kitty, Rogue, Kurt and I had moved to his office. Warren, Danielle and Jubilee had joined us.

"Other than those guys down in the infirmary," Logan said gruffly.

We were spread out all over the office, conveniently reflecting our distressed and disoriented state of mind. Ororo and Hank stood near Xavier's desk. Bobby, Danielle, Rogue, Kitty, Jubilee and Peter sat in chairs which had been added to the room. Warren stood in a corner. Wanda sat in the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Scott, Logan, Jean and Bella were by the door. Kurt and I were close to Wanda. I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed.

Xavier knew about everything that had happened. He had been as surprised as we were. Though, the more I thought about it, the more something seemed to be odd about the attack.

"Elyon?" Xavier's voice made me look up. "Would you like to share with the rest of us?"

The others watched me expectantly. I chose my words carefully. "The F.O.H.'s attack seemed awfully premeditated," I said. "Almost like they didn't care whether the Professor complied with their letter. I don't think they even really wanted Xavier to stop training us. They just needed an excuse to leave that note when they broke in, so they could confuse us, get us acting like a disturbed school of fish. The letter was just a setup."

Everyone else was quiet. Then Hank said, "It's a stretch, but I have to agree."

"Yeah," Jean nodded. "They obviously knew enough about you to hypothesize that you wouldn't stop training the students, Professor."

"That would mean they were out to destroy us," Ororo concluded.

"Yes," Xavier mused. "I've encountered many a military man with the goal of exterminating mutants, but none have targeted this school merely for the sake of destroying _us _specifically. But as strange as that is, it makes a large amount of sense." His brow furrowed. "But why _my _school? What or who could be here that would be such a bane of their existence?"

We were still, all of us.

"I don't care about their motives." Wanda's voice was bitter when she broke the hush. "I just want my brother back."

"And we'll get him back." Warren sounded determined.

"How?" Kurt questioned. It was the first time he'd spoken since Pietro was taken an hour earlier. "If they know as much about us as they seem to, then they will know we are coming." His gentle tenor had a huskiness to it from his silence.

"We'll use the element of surprise," Kitty suggested.

Scott caught on to the idea. "So that when we do show up…"

"They'll be unprepared and easily taken down," Kitty finished.

Peter gave her an admirer's stare. "That's brilliant, Kitty." Kitty looked pleased.

Xavier thought it over. "It just might work. Now, it's late. We'll meet up again in the morning to exchange strategies. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." We all said this at different times. Then we departed.

Kurt walked with me upstairs, behind the others. "Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, I still feel a little violated from when that thug touched my hair, but otherwise I'm fine. It's just…Do you remember what Jean said about the Friends of Humanity?"

"Yes," said Kurt. "She said that they experiment on mutants before…killing them." A look of fear crossed his face. "Which means they will probably kill Pietro. And any one of us could be killed on this mission."

I frowned. That idea, while possible, was terrible. "I'd never let anything happen to you. Not even if Hell itself stood in my way."

He smiled softly at me. "I would not let any harm come to you, either." We stopped for a moment on the second floor landing. "What do you think of life and death?"

Huh. I'd never really considered that. "Well…Life is a great thing. I think that we should all make the most with the time we're given, be our best. And I think that there are a lot of beautiful things where we least expect them." Crud. Did I really let that last bit slip?

"And death?" We continued up the stairs.

I thought about it. "Death is sad. Natural and inevitable, but sad. Sometimes it's unfair. But my grandmother says that we only borrow energy, and one day we have to return it."

He nodded contemplatively. "Your grandmother is very wise," he said.

"She really is," I agreed. We now stood outside my bedroom door. I turned to hug him. "Goodnight, Kurt."

He returned the embrace. "Goodnight, Elyon. Sleep well." Then he left me with the sensation of a million butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

* * *

After breakfast the following morning, we all met up in the Professor's office for idea exchange. We took the same positions as the night before.

"Does anyone have any suggestions?" Xavier asked to start us off.

"They'll be expecting us to react immediately," Jean said. "We may have to delay the mission if we want to catch them by surprise. But I don't think they'll have seriously harmed Pietro by then."

Kitty spoke up. "They also probably think that the entire team will come. We should choose the people most suited for the stealth and shock factor, and whose powers are the most honed, I think."

"Yes," said Xavier. "Jean, are you sure Pietro will still be all right if we were to delay the rescue?"

"Since they'll probably want to experiment on him first," Jean said.

Wanda grumbled, "If we get there and my brother is dead…"

"He won't be," Jean reassured her.

I suddenly remembered what those agents had said. "I believe Jean," I put in. "They won't kill Pietro because they didn't want Pietro."

Ororo seemed skeptical. "How do you know?"

"When they attacked last night," I said, "one agent said something that led me to think that they weren't just here to steal as many of us as they could. I think the whole thing was organized to seize and secure one specific person." I took a deep breath. "The agent said their boss wanted Kurt."

The children's eyes all widened. "I don't get it," said Jubilee. "Miss Ryder, I know you know a lot about psychology and all, but how does Kurt being the target affect what they do to Pietro?"

"Call me Elyon," I requested. "And it's nothing to do with psychology. They want to get Kurt, but they have to make do with what they have. And what do they have?"

"A perfectly healthy X-Man," Warren said. "A friend."

"Someone worth rescuing," Wanda added.

I nodded. "So how do you trap a bear?"

"They're using Pietro as live bait," Danielle realized.

"And when the whole team comes, they'll try to get all of us," Logan said. "If they beat us, then they'd kill us."

We were all silent as we mulled over that. I came to the conclusion that Xavier's preferred method of teaching was letting the pupils find the answers themselves, much like ancient Greek philosophers. He projected his accord into my head, and I assumed I was correct.

Kurt inserted his opinion. "It is clear to me that they hunt for trophies rather than food, and their attack on us makes me think that they know we are not stupid. They will think I would not dare to come along, since they let it slip that they are after me. They will never suspect the prey to come to them. That way, we can use Kitty's element of surprise plan with Elyon's logic."

"That's a decent hypothesis, Kurt," Hank commended.

"But what if they were to catch you?" Ororo sounded worried. "Think of the risk."

Kurt straightened up. The look on his face was determined, strong and dignified. "It is a chance we must take." He was so selfless. I loved that about him.

"They aren't gonna touch you," I vowed, a protective feeling coming over me. "I'll see to that."

Kurt turned to me. His expression softened and he smiled fondly at me. His eyes met mine and I looked down, a blush coloring my cheeks.

"I think we should consider what Ororo mentioned," Bella said. "If Kurt goes, there's a much higher probability of him being caught."

"And two X-Men will be lost," said Scott.

Xavier propped his elbows up on the desk and formed his hands into a steeple. "If even Kurt thinks it's worth the chance," he said slowly, "then we'll take it." He sat back in his wheelchair. "It's settled. We'll have a well-prepared rescue team retrieve Pietro; Kurt will be with them. I need Hank, Ororo, Scott, Jean and Logan to help me decide who stays and who goes. The rest of you are dismissed."

We filed out. The others meandered off in various directions.

I looked to Kurt. The fear and uncertainty he felt rolled off him in waves. I pretended not to sense it. "Kurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, so convincingly that I might have believed him if I didn't know him better. "Could you excuse me for a moment? I need to be alone."

"Of course," I said. Then he teleported away, leaving smoke and the odor of burning brimstone behind him.

I sighed. There were so many things I wanted for him. I wanted him not to be scared. I wanted him to be safe. I wanted him to be able to come back with Pietro. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted him to love me the way I loved him.

There were things I wished for myself, too. I wished to be the one to keep Kurt from harm. I wished I wasn't afraid. I wished I could always have my grandmother's wisdom to guide me. I wished I could be without worry. I wished I had the courage to tell Kurt how I felt. I wished there was more for us.

"Umm…Elyon?" The voice which made me look up belonged to Danielle Moonstar. She'd never spoken directly to me before, so I understood why she was a tad nervous. "Is something wrong?"

"What? Oh. No, nothing's wrong." I rocked back and forth on my heels.

Her dark eyes studied me intently. "Do you like him? Kurt, I mean."

I was too stunned to say anything.

She clasped her hands. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me anything. But I've seen the way you look at him, and you were blushing when we were in the Professor's office, and he smiled at you…" Oh.

"Yeah," I confessed. There wasn't a point in hiding it from her now. "Yeah, I like him." _Understatement._

"Ah." Awkward silence followed.

I changed the subject. "So…you're Cheyenne?"

She nodded. "Yep."

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Boulder, Colorado," she said. "But my grandfather lives on the reservation in Wyoming."

Nifty. "Wow. Must be really different from Cherokee."

She looked surprised. "You're Cherokee?"

"Half," I specified. "I'm a member of the Eastern Band."

"That's really cool," she enthused. "I've been to the reservation a couple times. The conditions could be better, but I had fun. I went to the Oconaluftee Indian Village. Our tour guide was a woman named Layne Owl."

"Oh, hey," I gasped. "That's my grandmother!"

"Really?" Her eyes widened.

Jubilee came bounding into the foyer then. "Dani, come on! The guys wanna hang outside with us!" She grabbed Danielle's arm and started pulling her away. Danielle gave a little wave, and I returned it.

Since I was alone now, I decided to go to the den. I found Bella sitting on the couch by herself. She was holding a pillow and staring into space with a distraught manner.

"Hey," I said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied rather glumly.

I frowned. "Liar," I accused. "Tell me what's wrong."

She buried her face in the pillow. "I told Logan!" she moaned.

I blinked. "You told Logan?" It didn't take me long to realize what she meant. "Oh!" Then the depth of that set in. "_Oh._"

"Uh-huh." She looked miserable. "He didn't say anything, either! Heck, he didn't even _think_ anything! I must have stunned him into complete shock." She shook her head back and forth in denial. "Not like it matters. He never thought of me that way before. Why should he start now?"

I patted her shoulder in an attempt at reassurance. "Don't worry. He'll start thinking straight soon enough. Why shouldn't he? You're great."

She half-smiled. "Thanks." She paused a moment, closing her eyes. She broke into a wide grin. "Oh, yes! I got in!" She opened her eyes. "Kurt thinks you're pretty."

I blushed. In spite of myself, I had to make sure she was telling the truth. "Does he?"

"Actually, that's more of an understatement," Bella corrected herself. "He thinks you're gorgeous. It bothers him."

My heart swelled. Maybe there was hope for a future involving more than mere friendship, after all! Although, the last thing Bella said was a bit confusing. "Why would it bother him?"

She raised an eyebrow, like she expected me to be able to just know. "Think about it, Elyon. What's the one reason he gets nervous when he meets new people?"

I understood then. "Oh." It bothered him because he looked like a demon. He didn't think our friendship made sense. Why did it have to? Couldn't he see that I didn't care about that?

"No." Bella answered my internal question. "He doesn't get why you weren't afraid of him when you first met. He wonders why someone like you could want to spend time with someone like him."

This troubled me. I didn't want to have to dwell on it anymore. I rose to my feet. "I'll see you later." I headed out of the room.

"See you." She resumed her brooding.

Wanda sat on the stairs. I perched beside her. She glanced at me with those ghostly blue eyes of hers. "I feel like this is my fault," she said. "It's my fault Pietro was taken. If I'd just noticed on time, I would have been able to stop them."

"It's not your fault," I told her. "The Friends of Humanity are just terrible people. Blaming yourself is what they want you to do."

Xavier rolled into the foyer. His face was unreadable. "Elyon, could you get the door? We have visitors."

Wanda and I stood. I noticed just how much taller she was; she had a good eight inches on me. I peered over the railing and flicked my wrist, opening the door.

"What are you doing here?" Xavier queried. His voice hardened.

I couldn't see our guests, so I came around to stand near Xavier's chair. The two people standing in the doorway weren't unfamiliar.

The man had a tall stature and a full head of thick gray-white hair. He had a thin face and piercing blue eyes, and he wore a simple brown suit. The woman was about eleven inches taller than I, and she wore a sleeveless, midriff-baring zip-up shirt make of black leather, as well as pants of the same material and combat boots. She also had on a long, black trench coat. Her shoulder-length hair was a startling shade of red, her skin was deep cobalt and she watched me with serpentine yellow eyes.

They were the terrorists who had wreaked havoc on America last year—Magneto and his ex-colleague, Mystique.

'_Yes,'_ Xavier confirmed. _'Magneto was a terrorist. But he is also my old friend.'_

_**

* * *

**_

A/N:

Yes, that chapter sucked. I'll admit, it was mostly filler, but we'll just have to deal with it.

On a side note, I am in a much better mood. I've recently been getting back into _Wolverine and the X-Men_, mostly because I _love_ Liam O'Brien as the voice of Nightcrawler. Seriously, when I hear him, I think, "Oh my God, I could _so _listen to him talk with that smexy accent _all day_." So, yeah.

Anyways, don't forget to review—I'd really appreciate it!


	12. Chapter 12

**12. LEARNING**

I couldn't believe what I'd just been told. "They wanna _what_, now?"

"Magneto and Mystique want to join the X-Men," Kurt repeated. He sat beside me on the stairs, a couple hours after the two had arrived. "It doesn't make much sense to me, either, but personally, I commend them. At least they've changed."

"Changed?" I stared at him, baffled. "They terrorized the country for months on end!" I shook my head. "People don't change on the fly like that, Kurt. Trust me."

He frowned. "Fine, then. At least they're _trying_ to change. Is that better?"

"Yep." I grinned.

He rolled his eyes. There was something about that expression that I liked. "Women are so picky," he complained.

I raised an eyebrow. "And men have astoundingly large egos." I punched him lightly on the arm. "That's okay, though. You're still my best friend." _Even though I wish you were more._

A soft smile came to his face, and I remembered what Bella had said, about our friendship confusing him because of his looks. This, in turn, brought something to mind.

"You know something, Kurt?" My mind churned. "Mystique got shot with the cure. She's here now, and even though she doesn't have scales, she's still _blue_." I paused thinking this over. "I don't think the cure worked for anybody. Not for Rogue, or Mystique, or Magneto…It never lasted. Almost like it got filtered out or something."

"I was just thinking about that," he remarked. "It is strange, isn't it?"

He looked at me, making accidental eye contact. My breath caught in my throat. It was just like last night, with his alluring scent and that oddly pleasant thing about his mouth (I wasn't sure of what it was; all I knew was that it made me want to touch my own lips to it). I wanted his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me to him, his lips on mine. I wanted to touch the scars on his face and chest. I wanted to be his "little woman." I wanted our bodies drawn together as though by some magnetic force. I wanted him to love me. I already loved everything about him—his looks, his charm, his quiet voice which could pull me into a conversation and never let go.

How silly. He had no idea how incredibly sexy he was.

The blunt thought caused heat to rush to my face, and suddenly, I was having a very hard time controlling my impulses.

"Elyon?" He sounded puzzled when he broke the silence. "You're blushing. Is something on your mind?"

I tore my eyes away from him and stared down at my feet. "No, not at all." I fidgeted, crossing my ankles and twiddling my thumbs. "But, uh, yeah, it is strange. About the cure, I mean." I glanced at him, and I found myself entranced by the angelic symbols on his face. Without thinking, I reached up and touched the scars on the left side of his face.

He seemed stunned, bewildered, as he stared at me, but he said nothing. My hand lingered against his skin. Abruptly self-conscious—his scars were a sensitive topic—I pulled away.

I looked down at my tingling fingertips. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he said in a funny, distracted-sounding tone. "You just startled me. No one has ever touched me like that before."

"Oh." I looked at him, and noticed for the first time that his hair had a faint hint of indigo in it. I turned away to make clearing my head easier.

He stood. "Let's go see if our guests are done in the Professor's office." He took my hand and helped me to stand. I jammed my hands into my pockets as I walked beside him.

I felt so awkward and nervous as I tried to think of a way to tell him. What was I going to say? What was _he_ going to say? What if he didn't return my feelings? "Kurt…"

"_Ja__?_" He looked at me with a curious expression.

"Nothing. I forgot what I was about to say." Ugh, I was such a coward! Where was my backbone?

"Okay," he said. "You know, you can tell me anything."

"I know." _Anything except this._

We were quiet throughout the rest of the walk to Xavier's office. When we reached the door, Xavier beckoned, "Come in!"

Magneto turned to look at us with an air of regality. Mystique eyed me with that same cautious speculation.

"Ah, Kurt!" Xavier directed his attention to my friend. "I was just about to contact you. Mr. Lehnsherr and Mystique intend to stay. I need you to show them to their rooms."

Mystique spoke next. "Who is she?" Her voice had an interesting texture, almost spectral.

"She is one of my new recruits," Xavier answered her. "Elyon Ryder, also called Sting. Elyon, this is Mystique and Erik Lehnsherr, whom you know is also called Magneto."

I offered a little wave, though it was quite clearly uncomfortable. Lehnsherr smiled and said, "Hello, there." Mystique didn't react, instead resting her eyes a bit uneasily on Kurt.

"Now," said Xavier, "just follow Kurt, and he'll show you the way."

Kurt squeezed my hand. "I'll see you later."

I nodded. "Later." Then Lehnsherr and Mystique followed Kurt out of the room. Mystique looked down at me as she passed. There seemed to be a resemblance between her and Kurt, other than that they were both blue, though this was certainly peculiar itself. (Yes, Hank was also blue, but I'd learned that this was the result of a self-experiment.) I wondered why that was.

"You'll find out soon enough," Xavier said, and I knew that he was answering my internal question.

I turned to leave. "I'll be seeing you, Professor."

"Goodbye, Elyon."

Waiting just outside the door were Bobby, Peter, Kitty and Logan. "What's going on?" Logan's question was more of a demand.

I shrugged. "I'm not really sure. But I think Magneto and Mystique are joining the team."

Bobby's icy eyes grew wide. "Are you serious? Magneto and Mystique are _here_?" He shifted his weight. "That's probably not such a good idea. Rogue's still pretty mad about last year." Oh, yeah. Magneto had figured out about Rogue's gift, and he'd used her to power his Insta-Mutant machine, knowing that if he tried to do it himself, it would likely kill him; he seemingly hadn't cared whether Rogue lived or died.

"You think Rogue's angry?" Logan sounded resentful. "Wait till I get a hold of 'em."

"That's an even worse idea than letting them join us," Peter disagreed.

"Yeah," said Kitty. "If they're here, it must be for a good reason. The Professor knows what he's doing."

Logan huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at the empty space in front of him.

'_All X-Men, please report to my office immediately.' _We all heeded Xavier's order.

Once inside, we waited for the others to show up.

_Bamf!_ Kurt now stood beside me by the wall. My heart started beating a little faster. _Keep it under control, _I told myself.

"Where are your charges?" I asked nonchalantly.

"I offered to bring them down," he told me. "They said they would come by themselves." He contemplated something for a brief moment. "I don't think Mystique likes Mr. Lehnsherr very much anymore."

The rest of the X-Men came in then, followed closely by Mystique and Lehnsherr. The latter two stayed near the back of the room.

"Professor," said Scott, approaching Xavier's desk. "Have you reached a verdict?"

"Yes," said Xavier. I supposed he had told the new arrivals about what had happened to Pietro. "After exceedingly careful deliberation, I have decided that the rescue team will consist of Cyclops, Jean Grey, Magneto, Wolverine, Colossus, Nightcrawler and Psyche." Danielle seemed surprised when he listed her.

I felt puzzled and a bit frustrated. "Wait, _what_? What about me and Bella and Wanda?"

Xavier replied smoothly, "You three have not had nearly enough experience for this mission."

'_Elyon,'_ Bella whispered anxiously in my thoughts. _'What are you doing?'_

I ignored her. "And Danielle has?"

"I agree with Elyon," Wanda stated. "Pietro's my brother. Why can't I help save him?"

Xavier appeared to be struggling. "Neither of you understand. This is an extremely dangerous assignment. The risk your inclusion would pose…" He didn't finish.

Wanda was obviously angry. "I'm sorry, but I can't sit in here while you figure out a plan to save my twin brother without me." She rose to her feet and left the room.

It dawned on me then. "I get it," I said. "You think we'll be extra baggage. You think we'll be a burden—or at least a liability in some way." My muscles tensed, and my hands clenched into fists. "Whatever your reasons, I guess I can't argue." I started out of the office. As I strode, I called, "I'm not a helpless little girl, Professor! I can handle myself!"

I didn't know where to go. I was befuddled and hurt, so I stopped in the middle of the foyer. What was I going to do now? After a moment of thought, I decided to go to the workout room. I really needed to blow off some steam.

Once in the elevator, I let out a groan of vexation. When I was in the workout room, I kicked off my shoes and socks, went over to the punching bag and started delivering heavy blows.

I roundhouse-kicked the bag. _Not fair,_ I growled in my head. I punched it. _Just 'cause I'm the smallest of the X-Men._ A hard sidekick. _I should be able to go._ A backhanded fist. _Do they think I'm inept?_ One last hard front kick. _It's not fair!_

The punching bag swung to and fro on its chain. A pounding headache afflicted me, and I turned away, pressing my fingers to my temples. I saw a flash of fire behind my squeezed-shut lids, and I knew what I had to do. I dropped my hands to my sides and formed them into fists.

Reluctance came to me. Then I figured, why not? There was no one around. Carefully, I unlocked all of my psi-powers at once, letting them flow freely throughout me. It felt so relieving.

There was a warmth on the outside of each of my fists. Had something gone wrong? Filled with fear, I opened my eyes to check. What I saw astonished me.

The fire-daggers didn't quite resemble candle flames. They were more like blowtorch blazes, smooth and streamlined, just barely flickering. It was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen, especially since they affected my skin. Something told me that I had been the one to create them, when I let my powers loose. I must have somehow superheated the air, igniting it into fire. I wondered if shutting off my other powers would extinguish the daggers.

Indeed, it did, though there seemed to be new space in my brain for this bizarre new gift. I accessed this new knowledge, and the daggers came back.

Sweet.

I spent the next thirty seconds switching them on and off, getting an innocent amusement out of the activity. Who knew that playing with fire could be this much fun? I plopped onto the floor, giggling.

Of course, my mind inevitably wandered to Kurt. What would he think of this new skill?

I heard the creak of the door and, reflexively, I stood. It was none other than Kurt.

"Hey," I said. I felt a glowing warmness in my chest.

"Hey," he replied, closing the door behind him. He came up to me. "Are you okay? You looked fairly upset before."

I frowned at the reminder. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine." I changed the subject. "Guess what I can do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. What?"

A dagger of fire popped up over my right hand. I flipped it around a few times, simply because I figured I could.

Kurt raised his eyebrows. After I turned off the dagger, he stared at me with a surprised expression. "Wow. I wasn't expecting that."

I shrugged. "I get that a lot."

His shock wore off, and he gave me a condescending look. "Elyon." I quite liked the way my name sounded when he said it. "You're getting off topic."

"What topic?" I was still thinking about how wonderful his voice was. But then I remembered what the original subject had been. "Oh. _That _topic." Why couldn't we talk about something else? I didn't want to relive professional rejection, especially since it had only been less than ten minutes ago.

"Are you sure you're all right?" He studied me apprehensively. "It looked like you took it hard."

"Yeah." I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "It just seems so unfair. It's almost like they think I can't do it. I hated feeling that way again."

"Again?" he asked.

I shuffled my feet. "Back home, I was always stereotyped because of my race and my size. Now it's happening here. Older, bigger people see me and they think I'm weak. They want to take care of me. But I can take care of myself, without anyone's help." I looked up at him.

He appeared to be concerned. "I know that," he said. "It isn't that they think you are helpless. But they do not want to see you get hurt. They care about you, and so do I." He put his hands on my shoulders. "You are not a burden. You just need to learn to accept help."

He was looking me right in the eyes. I had to pretend that I hadn't forgotten how to breathe. "I guess you're right," I sighed grudgingly. "But I told you, I'm no good at the whole 'friends' thing."

"Don't be ridiculous." He chuckled. "You're a great friend. Besides, everyone has flaws."

Although he had a point (I was hopelessly flawed), my face fell. I hadn't wanted to hear that from him.

"Cheer up," he urged. When I failed to do so, a devilish grin adorned his features. "Are you ticklish?"

_No way_. I glowered at him, wrapping my arms around my midsection protectively. "You wouldn't dare," I growled.

He giggled in an adorable, mischievous sort of way before lunging for me. I quickly dodged him.

"I will hurt you," I warned.

"No, you won't." He knew me too well. He came back at me, and I evaded him again.

A rather amusing pursuit ensued, with him chasing me around to room in an attempt to catch me. He finally pinned me down on a stack of mats, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me down with him, so that he was behind me as we lay on our sides. He found my most sensitive spot—right in the center of my abdomen—and proceeded to tickle me till I was screaming with laughter.

The whole thing was silly. It was unbecoming. It was childish. It was very fun.

"Okay, Kurt," I panted as I tried to catch my breath. "I'm cheered up. You can stop now." It occurred to me that he was holding me in an intimate manner. Heat rushed to my face. As soon as he let me up, I scrambled to the edge of the mats and organized my thoughts.

Honestly, it was sad that I had to organize my thoughts at all. The man was reducing me to blundering incompetence.

He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Let's go upstairs."

As we rode on the elevator, I couldn't help but notice that he seemed extraordinarily pleased with himself. "What are you so happy about?"

"I found your ticklish spot," he said simply. I elbowed him, and he laughed.

We found Wanda in the hallway. She looked as though she had just been told something life-altering.

"Wanda?" I said. "What's wrong?"

She looked at me with faraway blue eyes when she heard my voice. "Nothing's wrong."

I glanced at Kurt. He didn't appear to know what was wrong with her, either. I made a casual "come on" gesture, and we walked onward.

"Wait!" Wanda called after us. We turned to her.

"Yes?" I said.

She approached us. "Keep this confidential," she told us quietly. "Did I tell you that Pietro and I were adopted?" Kurt and I nodded. "Magneto told me something."

"What did he say?" Kurt queried.

Wanda took a deep breath. "He…he claims that he's our father."

We were shocked into silence.

_**

* * *

**_

A/N:

Alas, we are officially halfway through the story! Only twelve more chapters to go (technically)!

Yes, this one's a shorty. But I'm okay with it—could be worse.

I'm aware that I suck at introducing scandalous information, but what the hey. It's not like it's something that I can help.

Also, I'm FINALLY posting a link for the waltz back in Chapter 9. Since I couldn't choreograph something to save my life, I decided to steal from _Dancing with the Stars_. The show doesn't exist in this universe, so it can work. Yeah, so don't hate on me for using it, please.

Here's the link (remove the spaces): http : / / www . youtube . com / user / OEyeCu812#p / u / 44 / oF_K9jy0RYY

Don't forget to review!


	13. Chapter 13

**13. STRANGE**

The next eight days were tense. Everyone was either scared or intimidated, though most wouldn't admit it. Things were looking grim.

Lehnsherr and Mystique didn't integrate quite as easily as Bella and I had. Lehnsherr mostly stayed on the sidelines, neglecting to speak with anyone but Xavier and Wanda. Mystique was different. She talked to no one, instead remaining in the background, but she would throw glances at Kurt, like she wanted to talk to him but couldn't find the opportunity or the words.

Logan was starting to display some interesting behavior. He stopped pining over Jean and now made flirtatious moves toward Bella. Understandably, the latter was pleased, although I was a bit surprised by Logan's sudden change of heart, despite the fact that he'd gradually been drifting from Jean to begin with.

Keeping my feelings for Kurt a secret got harder day by day. He proved to captivate me endlessly, and every now and again, he would notice that something was off about my actions or mannerisms. I wanted to tell him, and I longed for him to feel the same way, but I didn't have the courage.

I didn't really train, but Monday afternoon, I was exercising in the workout room, wearing black cotton shorts and a racer-back tank top to better facilitate my movements. Kurt kept me company, just wearing his own cotton shorts.

"How would you describe Graydon Creed?" he asked, hanging upside-down from a bar attached to the ceiling.

I started on the monkey bars. "I dunno." I swung my bare feet to gain momentum. "I'd say he's a psychopath." I jumped down. "I mean, just look at what we know. He obviously doesn't feel guilty about the things he's done. And everything seems so planned out. I bet if he had his way, he'd kill all the mutants."

"I wouldn't let him hurt you," Kurt said with unyielding conviction. He came down from his perch. "I swear, I wouldn't let them so much as touch you."

Aw. "Good to know," I said. "But like I said—"

"You can take care of yourself," my handsome blue friend interrupted. "I know." He came up to me. "Although it would comfort me if you were to prove it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Prove it?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Prove to me that you can take care of yourself."

"How?" I wondered. Capability and resourcefulness were difficult qualities to demonstrate.

He thought for a moment. "We'll spar," he decided. "Starting in three…two…one…now!" He lunged for me.

Reflexively, I leaped, grabbing onto the monkey bars, swinging up, tucking my knees in and flipping to land on top of the structure in a crouch. From there, I launched myself over to the bench press, which wasn't too far away. I settled on it gracefully. I had learned well.

He was balanced on the bar hanging from the ceiling. Since I was better at fighting when I could touch the ground, I found my footing on the hardwood and rooted myself to it. He dropped down and started over to me. I took on my stance.

"Not bad, so far," he said. He threw a punch. I dodged it and attempted to deliver an uppercut to his ribs. He moved to the side and slipped behind me.

I sensed his movement toward me. I ducked and whirled so that I ended up behind him. I jabbed at his back with my knuckles, actually managing to hit him this time. He turned to face me.

We circled each other for a bit. Then he made his move, and I evaded him. This happened several more times. It was almost like a dance, the way we fought. We didn't touch, and we never really opposed each other. Rather, we balanced each other out. We were like water, giving and taking, pushing and pulling.

It was most interesting. I decided to take it as a good omen.

Our "dance" gradually moved closer and closer to the ground, until we were crouching. We both were sweating and panting.

I watched him closely, making certain he wouldn't counter my next move. Then I pounced and brought him to the ground, my hands on his shoulders. I sat on him, straddling him so that he could not rise.

Pride swelled within me. I had finally beaten him.

He stared up at me with an expression of awe and wonderment. His eyes met mine and locked my attention in them. As he looked at me, something in his gaze seemed to change, as though he was seeing a shrouded masterpiece for the first time. His brow furrowed slightly in mild confusion. "You win," he said simply.

I couldn't take my eyes off of the man beneath me. My heart pounded furiously in my breast. My breathing quickened. It was like he'd put some kind of a spell on me. I couldn't recall our reason for sparring. It was irrelevant to the moment, but I wanted to remember. "Um…remind me why we were sparring?"

"_Ich __vergesse__,_" he said, sounding perplexed.

I suddenly recollected that I was, in fact, sitting on top of him. Embarrassed, I scrambled off of him and sat on my knees beside him. He got up and seated himself in the same position in front of me. I lowered my eyes when I felt myself blush. What was I doing? Surely he'd figured it out by now. God, I was so stupid. So stupid and foolish and—

He reached out and gingerly touched my face. My breath caught in my throat and my pulse accelerated. I looked up to meet his eyes. My heart sputtered frantically.

He got a look of adorable puzzlement upon the action. His eyes smoldered like warm, melted gold. His face flushed an odd, dark violet. It took me a moment to realize that he was blushing, too. It was kind of cute, now that I thought about it. It made him look vulnerable. And I most definitely liked the violet color.

Seeming disoriented, he pulled away from me, turned his head and looked at the floor. "_Entschuldigung__._" His tail flicked. He was clearly ashamed.

"It's okay," I assured him. "You didn't do anything wrong." _I quite enjoyed it, actually._

He turned back to me and smiled faintly. Then he remembered something. He looked up at the ceiling. "Oh, God," he moaned.

"What?" I asked.

The look on his face was sad. "I leave in two days, Elyon."

My stomach pitched. He was right, as usual. But I didn't want him to go. I wanted him to stay here with me. "Damn, I'm selfish," I concluded.

"How so?" he wondered.

"Well, here you are, getting ready to put your life on the line for someone else," I said, "and you've already pulled through a lot and given so much, but you're not gonna quit fighting. And here am I, just wanting you to stay put because I'll miss you." I nodded pointedly. "See? I'm selfish."

He patted my hand. "You are not selfish. If anything, you are selfless."

"Are you sure you're not just saying that to make me feel better?" I queried skeptically.

"Yes," he said.

I gave him a hug. I didn't mind that he was shirtless and a tad sweaty. It made his scent more prominent. "Thanks."

He returned the embrace. A keen pain became present in my chest. I knew precisely what it was.

It was yearning. I wanted him, and I couldn't have him. But that was life.

* * *

"Elyon?"

I looked up as I meandered down the hall to see Ororo walking beside me. "Yeah?"

She appeared to be concerned. Why was that? "You seem distracted. Is there something wrong?"

Yep. "No, nothing's wrong," I lied.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Actually…" I hesitated. What if I gave it away? "I'm just really on edge. The mission and everything, and knowing how dangerous the F.O.H. are, you know? And I'm worried about Kurt. He's important to me." Aw, dang.

"Is he?" When I didn't answer, she inquired, "Elyon, do you have feelings for Kurt?"

Um, heck yeah. I sighed, but remained silent. It was my secret to keep.

"Answer me, Elyon," Ororo said sternly. "Are you in love with Kurt?"

I didn't know what to say. I hadn't told anyone. Bella knew, but only because she was a telepath, and I was pretty sure Xavier knew too, but still…I looked Ororo in the eyes. "Yes," I admitted.

There was a glimmer in her dark eyes which I couldn't really identify. "How long?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I realized it a little over a week ago." Pleading entered my tone. "Please don't tell anyone! I'm not ready for him to know yet."

"All right," she said softly. We continued down the hall and through the foyer. "I think he's enthralled with you," she noted.

Jean came up to us. "Who is?"

"No one," said Ororo. I was relieved.

Jean appeared to have a revelation. She took on a surprised expression before she and Ororo smiled down at me warmly. I couldn't help but feel like a small child compared to them. "Would you like any advice?"

Man. Stupid telepathy. _Yes! Advice would be wonderful! _"No. I'm good."

The redhead chuckled. "Okay. So, what do you think of him?"

I looked about me cautiously. "No one can hear us, right?" I felt paranoid.

"No one can hear us," Jean assured me.

Good. I decided to sum it up. "I think he's absolutely wonderful."

Jean scrutinized me for a moment. Then she relaxed. "What else?"

"He's a gentleman," I said, getting more excited as I spoke. "And he's attentive and polite and charming and intelligent. He's a fantastic friend, and he's funny. He makes me feel good. And he's very good-looking, in my opinion." I didn't care that I had revealed so much.

"And how do you feel about him?" Jean questioned.

I wasn't quick to answer. "He…well, he's my best friend. I'd die without him, I think." I said the last thing without considering it, and I instantly regretted it. Why had I let them know that?

"I understand," Jean said. "And I'm sorry you're not coming with us. It really has nothing to do with your size. The Professor has your best interest at heart."

Oh. Since that was the case, I would dwell on it no longer.

* * *

The next day, Cyclops held one last Danger Room session for all of the X-Men before the rescue squad had to leave.

Bella walked to the Danger Room with me. "Are you feeling okay, Elyon?"

"Aside from the morbid sense of impending doom, I'm great," I replied breezily. I tugged on my gloves.

"Well, I think you'll be glad to know that if everything goes according to plan, things will be looking up for you," Bella said.

Really? "What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"You'll see," she said, slipping into the reserved personality of her alter ego.

Shadowcat came up behind us. "Do you know what's up with Kurt?"

I shook my head. "No. Why? Is he okay?"

"He seems fine. Just more nervous, which is unusual. He's never nervous, about anything like this, anyway. I think I heard him talking to Peter about something, but I don't know what."

"Well, I wouldn't know either," I shrugged. "I haven't seen him all morning."

"Hmm." The girl's brow furrowed.

_Bamf!_

We all jumped a little bit. "Kurt!" I exclaimed. "Jeez!" Shadowcat coughed as the sulfur-smoke wafted over to her.

"Sorry," Nightcrawler apologized.

"It's okay," I said. "Just let me restart my heart."

Once we were inside and standing with the other X-Men and our guests, Cyclops started giving orders. "This is pretty much every possible scenario you could get into on a rescue mission like this one," he said. "Booby traps, false leads, people with guns. We'll have to split up. Storm will go with Beast, Shadowcat and Psyche. Wolverine will take Cognitia, Jubilee and Iceman. Colossus, Magneto, Rogue and the Scarlet Witch will be a squad. Nightcrawler and Sting will go with Mystique. I'll go with Jean and Angel. Now, don't make that face, Rogue. We have to learn to get along." He passed around little mechanical things that resembled walkie-talkies, only smaller and sleeker and with the trademark X design. "Keep these communicators on you at all times. You need backup, you call for it."

We all nodded and clipped the communicators to our belts. It was a good thing Magneto and Mystique had belts on their own garb.

The Danger Room's mechanical voice reverberated off the walls. "_Simulation: begin._"

The room faded and became a darkened, metallic junction between five hallways.

"We'll take the north route," said Cyclops. "Wolverine, take northeast. Storm, northwest. Colossus, southeast. Nightcrawler, take the southwest hall."

The others grouped up and followed his instruction. Mystique came up to Nightcrawler and me. "Let's go," she said; her strange voice was quiet.

She led the way as we crept down the hall. I repressed the urge to hum the _Mission: Impossible _theme, since I had no idea what Mystique's sense of humor was like. Did she even have a sense of humor? I couldn't be sure. I'd assume she did, just to be safe.

Eventually, it became so dark I couldn't even see an inch in front of me. Nightcrawler noticed my unsure footing. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me close to his side, and took my hand in his free one. "Don't worry," he murmured. "I won't let you fall."

"Thanks," I whispered a bit breathlessly. I wondered if he took note of the fact that I was blushing.

We came to a halt. "What is it, Mystique?" Nightcrawler asked. His voice was low.

"Footsteps." Now that she pointed it out, I could hear them.

I wondered if I could use my fire-daggers to provide illumination. Since there was no point in trying to keep cover now, I decided to give it a go. As soon as the daggers manifested, I could clearly see three uniformed guys, circling us and holding guns. "Shoot," I muttered.

They rushed us. I started in surprise. _It's just a hologram,_ I told myself, punching one of them in his computer-generated gut. I knocked him out with a blow to the head. Poor suckers should have had helmets.

Another one aimed his gun at Nightcrawler. Before I could get over there, Mystique kicked the guy in the head, knocking him down.

Nightcrawler had already taken out the last one, so I took the opportunity to assess the situation. There wasn't anyone else coming, and so I started onward. "Let's go!"

We ran into several other pretend agents on our way, and we beat all of them. Oddly, Mystique always watched Nightcrawler's back, almost like she felt compelled to protect him. It was more than a little strange.

At last, we came across a console room. Mystique went straight up to the screens and sat in the chair in front of them.

"What does all this do?" I mused. I moved to stand beside the chair, looking at all of the curious buttons.

Mystique didn't answer. Instead, she analyzed the keys carefully. Then she hit a few of them with lightning-fast fingers.

A voice came through the intercom: "_All agents report immediately to the congregation hall._"

I watched the screens in amazement as all the agents filed through the halls.

A few seconds after the hallways had cleared, Mystique pulled a large lever on the floor by the console. The voice spoke again. "_Congregation hall on lockdown._"

"Nice," Nightcrawler commended.

My communicator beeped. I unclipped it from my belt and flipped it open. "_Ya done in there, Imp?_"

"All clear, Wolverine," I replied.

"_Good. We're done in here, too. Don't know about Slim and the others, though._" "Slim" was Wolverine's nickname for Cyclops, I'd learned. "_Just go ahead and meet us in the junction,_" he went on. "_We'll wait on 'em with you._"

"All right." I snapped the communicator shut and clipped it back onto my belt.

Mystique stood. We were all quiet for a moment.

There was a sort of chilling tension coming from her. In an attempt to break the ice, I said, "So…good work, team."

"We're not a team." Mystique's response was quick and cold. I turned to her with wide eyes, a bit startled. She merely gestured to me. "Lead the way."

Nightcrawler gave me an inquisitive look, and I shrugged. Something was off, though. He wasn't meeting my eyes. Maybe something really was wrong.

I lit a dagger and made my way down the hall. Nightcrawler walked close beside me, and Mystique followed behind us.

I glanced up at my friend. "Is something the matter?" I kept my voice at a whisper, so that Mystique couldn't hear.

"Yes." His honesty was unexpected, to be frank.

"Can I help?"

"No."

I blinked in surprise. His answer was short and sounded almost defensive. He'd never tried to hide anything from me before. It was justified in a way, since I was hiding something from him too, but it still hurt. What could it be? What could keep him from opening up to me? Why was he acting so distant?

I examined his features, trying to detect some hint of what he was concealing, but his face was unreadable. I had to settle. "Okay."

We left it at that. But as we walked, I could feel Mystique's watchful eyes on my back. It was almost as though she was afraid I would hurt the man who so unusually resembled her, even though he had my heart.

* * *

_**A/N:**_

And so Act III begins!

*sniff-sniff* Hmm…this smells just a teensy bit like a filler. A _thriller_ filler! 'Cause this is filler, filler night…

Sorry. Michael Jackson moment.

Yeah, so, obviously, this chapter is a little lead-in to the next one. And trust me, Chapter 14 will have lots of surprises, so be prepared! I'm not gonna spoil it for you, but let's just say that Kurt and Elyon get a tad bit closer. And no, not _that _way. Jeez.

German translations are as follows:

"_Ich __vergesse__._" — "I forget."

"_Entschuldigung__._" — "Sorry."

Please give me some feedback! I'd really appreciate it!


	14. Chapter 14

**14. PARTING**

"Are you all right?" Kurt asked as he walked me to my room. It was late, past eleven o' clock.

I nodded. "Oh, yeah. I'm just tired. It's been a really long day. And tomorrow…" I trailed off at the mention of the day that I wished wouldn't come.

"I understand," he said, stopping outside my door. "You do seem distracted, though."

"I guess I am." I leaned against the wall casually. "But you seem distracted, too."

He hesitated for a moment. I wondered why. "I am distracted," he admitted. "Only because I have a lot to think about."

When he neglected to elaborate, I simply said, "Oh." I quickly changed the subject to something less uncomfortable. "Well, it's pretty late. I guess I'd better turn in." I held my arms out for a hug.

This embrace was different from all the others. It was still warm, of course, but it just didn't feel like something between friends, the way our hugs usually did. He held me closer than he did normally, and more tenderly. That wasn't to say I didn't like it. I pressed my face to his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

"Kurt?" What should I say?

"Yes, Elyon?" Was it just me, or did he sound hopeful? And had he always liked saying my name so much?

I balked. "Never mind. I forgot." _Coward, _I called myself. "Goodnight, Kurt."

"_Gute__Nacht__, __liebling_." I felt a light, featherlike pressure on my hair, and I realized that it was his lips. My own heart rate accelerated. He pulled away then, gave a little wave and headed down the hall.

As soon as I was in my room, I closed the door and sank onto the floor with my back against it. I felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. I was even giggling.

Surely this was conformation that he reciprocated my feelings, at least a little bit. He'd held me and kissed my hair and called me "darling." These actions were small, but they were enough to make me want to run down the hall, throw myself into his arms and make out with him on the spot.

But he was leaving tomorrow. And if he didn't come back…I frowned at that possibility.

I stood and went over to my dresser to get ready for bed. As I put on my pajamas, I contemplated my own feelings. It was fairly obvious that he was oblivious to them. I rolled my eyes. _Men._

I flopped down onto my bed, my limbs all sprawled out, and stared up at the ceiling. I wondered if he was thinking about me, too. I certainly hoped so.

Even if he didn't love me, I knew for sure that he was at least attracted to me. So he might fall in love with me, eventually. I decided not to tell him how I felt, at least not until I could be positive that he did feel the same way. Right now, our friendship was more important, no matter how much I wanted more.

Then again…He _was_ leaving tomorrow. What if something happened, and I never got to tell him? There was an acute pain in my chest. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to me.

_Oh, don't be silly, _I told myself. _He'll come back, and you can tell him then. Relax._

Despite my self-given pep talk, I found it difficult to fall asleep that night.

* * *

Kurt wasn't normally one to brood, but he couldn't help himself tonight as he sat in the bay window of his room. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

There was a knock on his door. "Come in!" he called.

Logan entered, seeming a bit apprehensive. "Hey, Elf. Hope I'm not bothering ya."

"You aren't." Kurt turned back to face the window.

Logan approached him. "Listen up, Elf. Don't think I don't know you well enough to know when something's wrong. You've been acting weird the last couple days. You'd better 'fess up."

Kurt looked up at his friend. The Canadian appeared to be genuinely concerned. "I'm worried about the mission," he said after a moment's hesitation. "And Elyon…"

"What about the Imp?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "Come on. You can tell me." Kurt felt himself blush as he thought of her. Unfortunately, Logan noticed. "Oh, no. You like her, don't you?"

"You might say that."

"Oh, no," Logan said again. "You've got it bad."

"What should I do?" Kurt moaned. "I want to be more than friends, but I don't want to scare her away, you know? I do not want to ruin what we already have."

Logan considered that. "Hmm…Well, does she feel the same way about you?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know. I think she does."

"Then do something about it!" Logan suggested. "We're leaving tomorrow. Let her know before we go. Hell, kiss her, if you have to."

"You wouldn't mind? I know you think of her as a sister."

"Nah. Little troublemaker needs someone like you." Logan started out of the room. "Just think about it." Then he left, and Kurt was alone.

* * *

The next morning, Kurt and I sat at the island in the kitchen. We had just finished breakfast. He was due to leave soon.

"So…" I turned to face him. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes. I only have a few things to get from my room." He stood. "You're welcome to join me."

"Okay." I stood and walked with him to the stairs. "Kurt…what if you don't come back? What if they kill you out there?" We began our ascent.

He held my hand in his. "Have heart," he said. "I'll always return to you." He glanced up at the ceiling. "We don't have much time." With that, he teleported us to the third floor, right outside his door.

We went in; he left the door open. His radio was on. I recognized Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind."

Kurt came back up to me. "One last dance before I have to leave?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Sure." I kicked off my shoes.

The dance was freestyle, with lifts and flowing movements. We moved with the music, feeling it, living it, so that all of our motions seemed perfectly choreographed, even though we were relying solely on instinct. I was glad to dance with him again.

When it was over, he held me tightly against him. "I have to finish getting ready," he said. He sounded sad. "Will you come with me?"

Of course I will, Kurt," I said. "Anything for you."

He draped his duster over his arm and headed out. I saw that his Rosary was on his dresser, so I grabbed it and went after him. I figured he might want to have it.

In the lower levels, I sat on the little bench in the junction between the women's and men's changing rooms, trying not to think about what was coming. I managed to keep it up until he got back and sat beside me.

"Are you still scared?" he asked quietly.

I sighed. "You bet." I held up his Rosary. "Here. You forgot this."

He smiled at me forlornly. "_Danke__._" He took the beads from me and unzipped his jumpsuit down to his abs before slipping the Rosary over his neck and tucking it into his uniform. I tried not to stare and failed. "I wouldn't want to lose it, now, would I?" He zipped up the leather once again. He noticed the unhappy expression on my face. "Don't be afraid."

I chuckled half-heartedly. "I'll try my best." We were silent for a moment. Then I said, "I'll miss you."

Cautiously, he lifted his right hand. I studied it questioningly. "No need to miss me." He gently placed his hand on the upper-left part of my chest, over my heart, which skipped a beat the second he touched me. "I'll be with you, right in here, okay?"

Unsure if it was the appropriate thing to do, I slowly raised my right hand and put it over his heart. "And I'll be with you, right here."

With his free hand, he reached out and gingerly stroked my face. I nearly choked up.

I could only look at him. It was obvious now that he had feelings for me, though I wasn't sure what they were (could be love, could be a mere crush). Now he was going to leave me. I searched his handsome blue face helplessly, and I didn't even think about my next action. Keeping my hand over his heart, and with my own heart hammering in my breast, I reached across him with my left arm and touched the right side of his face with my hand. He kept his hand over my heart, too. Then I leaned in and pressed my lips against his cheek, closing my eyes as I wished for the first time in a while that I would cry.

There was a sharp rap on the archway. "Hey, Elf." We both turned to see Wolverine standing in the doorway. "You ready to go?"

"_Ja_, Logan," said Kurt. "I'll be out there in a moment."

Wolverine looked at me. "See ya, Imp."

"See ya, Logan," I replied. Wolverine waved and left.

Kurt and I stood. He slipped into his duster while I felt weighted down with despair.

He moved to stand in front of me, seeming just as melancholy. He took my hand.

"Come back to me," I whispered.

"I will," he promised.

I looked up at him without lifting my head. "Goodbye, Kurt."

He squeezed my hand gently. "_Auf __Wiedersehen_, Elyon." He leaned down and kissed my forehead. Then he stepped back. In a cloud of dark navy sulfurous smoke, my incredible Nightcrawler was gone.

* * *

The Blackbird landed with barely a whisper in a valley at the base of their given coordinates. Kurt's adrenaline had never been higher. The others were all unbuckling their seatbelts, so he followed suit.

Cyclops stood up in the cockpit and turned to face them. "Listen up, X-Men," he said. "We have some idea of what to expect in here, but we don't know everything. We need to rely on each other and work as a team, watch each other's backs. If we do that, this mission will be a success. Now, let's go rescue our fellow X-Man." He, Jean and Magneto left the jet. The others rose from their seats and exchanged brief sentiments among each other.

Nightcrawler rose from his seat and went over to Wolverine. "Can you do me a favor?" He slipped out of his duster.

"Depends," Wolverine responded. "What's the favor?"

"I need you to put this in your drawer," Nightcrawler said, folding the duster. He handed it to his friend.

Wolverine seemed a tad confused. "Okay. Sure. May I ask why?"

Nightcrawler sighed. "If I don't come back—"

"Now, Elf," Wolverine interrupted. "Don't talk like that."

"Hear me out," Nightcrawler requested. "If I don't come back, just in case, there are two notes in the left pocket. If I am captured, keep the one labeled 'C' in the pocket and remove the one labeled 'D.' If they kill me, keep the one labeled 'D' in the pocket and remove the one labeled 'C.' You are not to read them, not even a peek. When you return, give the coat to Elyon, and only to Elyon. Please, Logan." His tone was pleading by the end.

Wolverine grunted in frustration. "Sure, Elf." He went over to his drawer, opened it, put the duster inside and closed the drawer again. "But like I said; you'll be okay."

_I certainly hope so,_ Nightcrawler thought, following his friend down the ramp of the jet.

The other X-Men stood at the foot of a rock facing in the valley. Jean had her hands on her temples. "They're up there, all right."

Cyclops started giving orders. "Magneto, you go on up there. Nightcrawler, take Psyche with you. Jean, levitate Colossus and me onto the ledge. And Wolverine—"

"I got my own way of getting up there," Wolverine stated, extending his claws.

Nightcrawler turned to Psyche. The teenager was fiddling with her braids, and she looked nervous. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's a little jarring at first," he told her, "but you'll get used to it."

Psyche adjusted the strap of her quiver, which was filled with arrows, and gripped her bow more tightly in her left hand. "Okay." She nodded shakily.

Nightcrawler concentrated on the ledge above. Since it was all he could see, he would have to move fast if he wanted to keep Psyche from falling. With caution in mind, he made the jump.

He heard the rushing, vacuum-like sound. He smelled the burning brimstone. He saw the brief flash of red-tinted light. In less than a second, he and Psyche were balancing on the ledge, just barely on their toes.

Psyche yelped. Quickly, Nightcrawler hurried her forward. She looked relieved when they had solid footing again, albeit a little ill.

"Do you feel okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, clutching her stomach. "Say, did Elyon get sick when you 'ported her for the first time?" She looked a little green.

He thought about that for a moment as memories of that chilly March evening came back to him. "No, she didn't. She coughed, but that was all. Why?"

"Just curious." She shrugged as she composed herself. "Do you think that was an omen of something?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.

He heard the crunch of the dirt as someone landed on the ledge, and he turned to see Jean, Cyclops, Colossus and Magneto standing behind him. Wolverine was hoisting himself onto the ledge. "Told ya I had my own way up," he muttered as he stood.

Cyclops looked to Jean. "Do you know where the door is?"

"Yes." Jean's brow furrowed. "Just give me a moment…There. Behind that rock." She pointed to her right. Indeed, there was a large stone, about two and a half meters high, leaning against the rock facing of the mountain.

Colossus transformed into his organic steel form before going over to the rock and placing his hands against its side. With a great shove, he pushed the rock aside, and it rolled down the mountain, revealing a tall metal door. There was a keypad beside it.

"I can probably extract the code," Jean said.

Magneto stepped forth with an air of regality. "Allow me, my dear." He raised his hand.

"What are you doing?" Cyclops questioned.

"We are here for one thing," Magneto said, "and one thing only. Tell me, boy, do you really wish to waste time being inconspicuous?" With that, he waved his hand, and the door gave in the middle and was pushed back with force.

Cyclops seemed a tad stunned. Then he ordered, "Let's go!" He led the others inside at a quick pace.

Nightcrawler glanced over his shoulder to see the sun one last time. Promptly, he followed his teammates inside.

As soon as he had joined them, red warning lights began to flash on the walls. An intercom made an announcement. "_Intruder alert! Intruder alert! All personnel to the entry hall!_"

"_Mist._" Nightcrawler rolled his eyes. "We didn't even have time to admire their lovely chrome paint job." Elyon had definitely rubbed off on him. The little firecracker's snark was contagious.

"Fan out, X-Men!" Cyclops commanded. "We don't know—"

At that moment, a dart hit Wolverine in the neck. He removed it callously and held it between his gloved fingertips, scrutinizing it. "Aw, hell." He popped out his claws. "Can we just rush 'em now?"

"I second that emotion," said Colossus, once more entering his metal state.

Cyclops held up a hand. "All right. On three. One…two…"

"Three!" Jean finished, running ahead.

A storm of F.O.H. agents rounded the corner, and they collided like barbarians. Nightcrawler saw Psyche arm herself with a headless shaft. After she knocked it in her bow, a psychic arrowhead appeared. She launched it at an agent, hitting him in the arm. His eyes clouded over and he began to scream as his worst fears manifested.

Impressed with the girl, Nightcrawler turned to see an agent sprinting to attack him from behind. Thinking quickly, he 'ported behind the agent and punched him. The agent seemed too disoriented to retaliate, so Nightcrawler tried the tactic again several times until his opponent lay unconscious on the floor. "Sorry I had to do that," he said to the fallen man. "But it was you or me."

Cyclops, Colossus, Psyche, Jean and Wolverine were handling themselves well. Nightcrawler had to wonder how the agents had responded so quickly to their presence. It was almost like they'd been anticipating them.

He teleported to the other side of the melee to bring down a few more agents, which didn't take very long at all. He was tiring out, though. He noticed Magneto having some trouble, so he teleported over to him in order to help him, fighting by his side.

"What do you think you're doing, foolish lad?" Magneto queried of him. "You'll get yourself killed!"

"I am helping a teammate," Nightcrawler replied. He continued in his assistance.

"Jean!" Cyclops called. "Wolverine! Nightcrawler! You go find Pietro—we'll hold them off back here!" He fired an optic blast at an oncoming agent.

Nightcrawler made a jump to the edge of the fight, meeting up with Jean and Wolverine. He wiped sweat from his forehead.

"You really shouldn't 'port that many times in one sitting, Elf," Wolverine said.

"Wolverine is right," Jean agreed. "You'll exhaust yourself."

"I'm fine," Nightcrawler insisted. "Jean, which way is Pietro?"

Jean closed her eyes. "To the right!" She started running down the hall to the right. Wolverine and Nightcrawler followed closely behind her.

Wolverine sniffed at the air. "I'm not getting anything."

Jean ignored that. "He should be somewhere down—oh, God." Her tone abruptly became frantic. "Nightcrawler, look out!"

As soon as she gave her warning, Nightcrawler felt a prick on the exposed skin of his neck. He felt around the afflicted area with his hand and found none other than a tranquilizer dart. _Verdammter__ Mist._ He heard someone cheer, "I got him!" He turned to see an agent, sans helmet, on the floor with a dart gun just before passing out from injury.

He turned back and saw his comrades' anxious faces. Actually, Jean was the anxious one. Wolverine just looked angry.

His vision became fuzzy and began to darken. This was one fast-acting drug. His knees became weak, and he only had enough energy left to say, "Leave me—I'll be okay. He fell limply onto the cold floor. He felt someone dragging him away from his friends. Then everything went black.

* * *

I couldn't explain it, but something felt horribly wrong. What was going on in Colorado, I wondered? My mind drifted to Kurt, and fear gripped me.

_Nonsense,_ I thought. _Kurt's fine. Chill out. _My instincts told me otherwise. I decided to ignore them.

* * *

_**A/N:**_

Like I said: I suck at action sequences. But I'm getting better! I think.

So, yeah, that's Chapter 14. It's kind of short, but whatevs. It'll work. It's not exactly intermittent, but it's far from the biggest chapter in the story. I had a lot of fun writing it, though.

German translations are as follows:

"_Auf __Wiedersehen_." — "Until we see each other again."

"_Mist._" — "Crap."

"_Verdammter__ Mist_" — to the effect of "Holy crap"

Oh, and one other thing: I NEED REVIEWS! Not to be rude or anything, but seriously, I've only got, like, five. I can't know what you think of the story unless you tell me. My psychic powers don't work that way. Give me a break.

Ahem.

On that lovely note, don't forget to review!


	15. Chapter 15

**15. BROKEN**

Bella burst into my room, her brown eyes wide and frantic, and her auburn hair mussed. "Elyon, they're back. But something's wrong." She shook her head, as though she were a living Etch-a-Sketch. "I can't tell what happened—their thoughts are too hectic—but you're not going to be happy about it."

"Why not?" I rose from my chair tensely. "Is Kurt okay?"

She stared at me with a blank face. "Oh, Elyon…"

I rushed past her, shouldering her aside. I proceeded to descend the stairs at a quickening pace. Bella called after me, "Elyon! Elyon, wait!" She soon reached me. "Would you just listen to me for a moment, please?"

"No." I started down the ground floor hallway to the elevator.

"Don't be so stubborn," she chided.

"Don't try to stop me or get in my way, and maybe we'll have a deal," I said through clenched teeth.

She frowned. "I'm not trying to stop you or get in your way." We boarded the elevator.

"Okay, stubbornness it is, then," I huffed as the door closed.

The ride down was silent. When we reached the lower levels, I sprinted to the hangar. I didn't stop to make sure Bella was behind me. Frankly, I couldn't care less.

The Blackbird was in its proper place. Its ramp was lowered. I watched as Scott, Jean, Peter, Danielle and Lehnsherr left the aircraft, every one of them looking distraught or disappointed. There was no sign of either Pietro or Kurt. They simply weren't there.

As the shock of the situation set in, I heard three sets of footsteps behind me, and Mystique, Bella and Wanda approached to stand by me.

Mystique voiced my inner question. "Where are Pietro and Kurt?" she demanded. Her use of Kurt's real name was honestly unexpected.

"Gone," was Scott's answer. "We couldn't find Pietro, and Kurt…Kurt was taken." He sounded melancholy.

"So not only do you not get Pietro, but you let them take Kurt, too?" Mystique was clearly very angry. "That's _great_. Just _fantastic_."

As she ranted, Logan came down the ramp with black leather in his arms—Kurt's duster. Logan came up to me. "Here." His voice was gruff. "He, ah…he wanted me to give you this. Seemed pretty important." He handed it to me. I clutched it to my chest like a comfort blanket.

My eyes darted from X-Man to X-Man. Lehnsherr looked remorseful. Peter seemed frustrated. Danielle was near tears, poor girl. Logan was obviously upset with somebody. Scott appeared to be dissatisfied with himself. Finally, my gaze rested upon Jean. Her sad eyes met mine. "I'm really sorry, Elyon," she said quietly. "There was nothing we could do."

I couldn't believe what she was saying to me. Pain, along with some overtaking feeling, possessed me to back slowly out of the hangar. Once I was in the hallway again, I darted to the elevator, whispering "no, no, no" under my breath the whole way like a mantra.

I let the elevator carry me to the third floor. Upon leaving it, I ran to my room as quickly as I could. After I got into my room, I closed the door behind me and threw myself onto the bed. _This isn't happening, _I thought in hopeless denial. _This can't be happening._ I hugged the duster to me.

After a moment, I reached over to my digital clock and pressed the button for the radio, which was tuned to the oldies station. Solomon Burke's "Cry to Me" was halfway through. Understandably, this didn't make me feel any better. In fact, it just made me even more miserable.

When that song was over, I found myself singing along with Otis Redding and a broken heart during the next selection. "_These arms of mine, they are lonely, lonely and feeling blue. These arms of mine, they are yearning, yearning from wanting you. And if you would let them hold you, oh, how grateful I will be! These arms of mine, they are burning, burning from wanting you. These arms of mine, they are wanting, wanting to hold you…_"

I choked up and couldn't finish. Calmed a bit by Otis' vocals, I closed my lovelorn eyes and fell into a sorrowful sleep.

* * *

Kurt had no idea how much time had passed when he finally opened his eyes. He sat on his knees, disoriented.

All he knew was that he was in a cell. The cell's floor, ceiling and walls were all metal, just like the door. There was a small, barred window at what he supposed was the back of the room. There were also two steel cots bolted into the walls, one on either side of the space. Above each cot was a larger, unbarred window, through which it was easy to see the neighboring cell.

The moon shone in through the window. He could see that he was still in his uniform. No one else was in the cell.

Ugh, how his head was pounding! He rubbed it in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain. He really had taken an awful fall when he was with Jean and Logan.

The thought of Logan made him wonder if the others had gotten back to New York safely. He certainly hoped so. He wouldn't be able to sleep at night if his friends were hurt because of him. And he hoped Logan had given Elyon the duster, given that the others were all right. He needed her to know that he was okay, for now at least, and that she didn't have to worry (though she probably would anyway), and that he was thinking about her.

For the first time, he noticed that his neck felt cold. He removed his gloves and inspected with his hands. There was a metal band around his neck, thin, but unbreakable. He knew what it was: a power inhibitor, in the form of a collar. He'd been afflicted by one before, when Colonel Stryker had kept him prisoner.

So there was no teleporting out of here. That was just _wonderful_.

He heard a click and a low buzzing sound. His muscles tensed. Cautiously, he turned to face the opening door.

An agent entered, carrying a bundle of clothes with him. He looked to be in his mid-forties, and he had recognizably Native American features. When he removed his helmet, shoulder-length black curls tumbled down. He looked up at Kurt a bit warily. "_Boozhoo_," he said. He smiled, showing bright white teeth which stood out against his dark face.

Kurt figured he might as well be polite. "_Guten__Abend__._"

The agent carefully placed the clothes on the cot to Kurt's left. "These are for you," he said. "Creed told me to put them on you earlier, but I noticed your Rosary. I figured you're conservative."

That was considerate of him. "_Danke__,_" Kurt said.

"Do you mind if I sit?" the agent asked. Kurt shook his head. The agent took a seat on the cot where the clothes were. "My name's Jim Clearwater," he offered. He had an odd accent, similar to Canadian, but not quite.

"Kurt Wagner," was the X-Man's reply.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then the agent—Jim—said, "I hate how Creed keeps you all locked up. A human being shouldn't do that to fellow humans. It's unnatural."

Kurt was a little surprised by this statement. "Then why do you stay?"

"My only son is a mutant," Jim answered. Kurt could hear the honesty in his deep voice. "Creed came to the reservation and tried to take him away from me and my wife. I gave myself up in his place. So, now I'm down here."

A frown crossed Kurt's face upon hearing the story. What kind of man endeavored to imprison another man's only child? "I am sorry for your circumstances, Mr. Clearwater."

"It's not your fault." Jim leaned back against the wall. He noticed when Kurt started rubbing his head again. "That headache must be real painful, en it?"

"_Ja__._"

"I should probably go, then," Jim concluded. He stood and put on his helmet. "I'll be checking up on you later." He smiled kindly. Then he left.

When he was gone, Kurt curled up on the cot. He was glad to have a new friend, but he needed to sleep off his headache. He had to formulate an escape plan, and he had to do it fast.

With that in mind, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

I sat alone at the kitchen island the next morning. I heard footsteps and looked up to see Rogue entering the kitchen, ridding me of my loneliness.

She seated herself beside me. "Hey," she said. "You feelin' okay?"

I blew out a gust of air, puffing out my cheeks a little bit. "Eh, I've been worse." I propped up my elbows. "Have you seen Logan and Bella?"

"Logan took his motorcycle out for a spin," she told me. "Bella went with him."

"Ah." I idly drummed out a beat on the tabletop—_thump, thump-thump, thump, thump-thump, thump_—and started singing a song my grandmother had taught me in my head. _We n' de ya ho, we n' de ya ho…_

Rogue was eyeing my speculatively. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Why did she have to notice so dang much? "No. I'm not all right." I twiddled my thumbs. This was a truth I did not wish to face. "Pietro's still missing, and now Kurt's gone, too, and no one else seems to know what to make of it all, and it's all so frustrating and…" I trailed off. I didn't want to tell her how much I was hurting.

She looked at me with concerned eyes. "Well, moping and brooding ain't gonna fix anything, sugar." She stood and patted my shoulder. "Just remember that, 'kay?" With that, she left me in solitude.

* * *

"Hey! _Hey_! Quit struggling, LeBeau!" the first voice ordered.

"Yeah. You'll only make things worse for yourself," the second one chimed.

"I could take the both o' you with my hands tied behind my back," the third claimed tiredly.

Kurt stood when he heard the clamoring ruckus from out in the hall; the sound was coming in from between the bottom of the door and the floor. He wore the prison garb now (white tank top and red pants), but kept his Rosary around his neck. Now, it sounded like a new mutant was being forced to do time here.

He heard Jim speak up. "Hey, be careful with him! You'll hurt him otherwise."

The first voice chuckled. "Why should we listen to you, Clearwater? Your kid is one of them. For all we know, you could turn on us at any second."

"Besides," said the second voice. "The _Gambit _here said he'd take us out with both hands tied. We have to manhandle him." He huffed. "Cajun thinks he's all that, but we'll show him. He's at the bottom of the food chain now."

"You sound like you're talking about high school," Jim scoffed.

"'Cause this _is_ like high school," the first voice said, low and threatening. "Only difference is if you stand up for the worthless wastes of oxygen, Principal will have your _head_." The last part was a growl, and Kurt found himself afraid for his new friend. "Ya got that, Tonto?"

Jim sighed. "Yeah, Chadwick. I got that." He paused. "Just let me take him from here."

The first voice snorted. "Sure. Here ya go, Clearwater."

There was a scuffle of shoes, and more footsteps as the other two agents headed in the opposite direction of Kurt's cell.

The cell door opened. Jim led a drowsy-looking young man inside. The man had handsome features, though his chin-length brown hair kept falling in his face. He was already wearing the prison attire. He also appeared to be the sort of person who worked out daily.

Jim took him to one of the cots. "Easy now," he said reassuringly to the man, who was confusedly rubbing the power inhibitor around his neck. You just rest up. I'll be here with breakfast soon." Jim turned to Kurt. "How are you doing? Do you need to go to the bathroom or anything?"

"I've felt worse," said Kurt. "And no, I'm fine."

Jim headed over to the door. "I'll see you soon, Kurt, Mr. LeBeau." He left.

Kurt turned to the man named LeBeau. He was eyeing him warily, which was when Kurt noticed the strangest thing about his looks. His eyes were red—blood red, and the sclera around each iris was black.

Startled and full of apprehension, Kurt seated himself on the cot opposite his new roommate and waited for Jim to bring food.

* * *

I had nothing better to do, so I headed out onto the deck for some fresh air. I needed some Vitamin D, anyway. It would lift my mood.

When I got outside, I found Xavier, Warren, Hank, Ororo, Scott and Jean discussing something. Xavier turned around to look at me when I stepped onto the deck.

"Ah, Elyon," he said. "I was just about to call you. Sit."

Confused, I perched on the wall-railing. I wondered what they were talking about.

Ororo gave Xavier her attention. "Do you think they'll kill Kurt immediately?"

Ugh. I felt sick to my stomach.

Jean responded to Ororo's question. "No. They wanted him for a reason. I doubt they'll kill him any time soon."

"But there's no way to be absolutely sure of that," Scott disagreed. "Maybe the only reason they wanted him at all was to kill him."

Okay, this topic was making me really uncomfortable. Warren perceived this and moved to stand by me. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," I lied. "I'm fine."

Meanwhile, the conversation was continuing. "I wouldn't be so hasty as to leap to rash conclusions," Hank inserted.

I suddenly had the overwhelming desire to speak my mind. "I don't care what conjectures you're making," I said bluntly. "Point is, they've got both Kurt and Pietro, and probably a whole bunch of other innocent mutants. I say we go in, break out as many mutants as we can and get the hell out of Dodge."

"I agree," Warren said. I was pleased with him.

"She has a point," Hank stated.

Ororo nodded. "I second that."

"So do we," Jean said, speaking for both herself and Scott.

Xavier studied me for a moment. Then he said, "It's settled, then. Training will begin first thing in the morning. And you'll be joining us, of course, Elyon."

I blinked. Really? "Okay."

Xavier nodded his head, indicating that the little meeting was adjourned. He wheeled himself inside and was followed by Scott, Jean, Ororo and Hank. Warren remained outside with me.

He leaned against the wall. "So," he said nonchalantly. "You really like Kurt, huh?"

I was caught off guard. "How did you…?"

He rolled his eyes. "_Please_. You care about him so much, and you seem pretty attached. It's fairly obvious, to me anyway." He stretched his huge, beautiful white wings out behind him.

"Great." I looked down at my feet, embarrassed. "Has _everybody_ here noticed?"

"No. As far as I know, it's just me, Ororo, Jean, Bella, Rogue, Dani and Kitty." I knew he wasn't going to say Xavier, because Xavier didn't really count.

"Sorry you have to group yourself in with the girls." I smirked.

"Eh, it's not so bad. At least, not for someone like me," he grinned.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," I said. "You're a billionaire playboy. Right."

We laughed together for a moment. Then he patted my shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry. We'll get them back. I promise."

He smiled, and I returned it. "Thanks, Warren. You're a good friend."

He went inside then, and I was left alone.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ And there is Chapter 15! There's not much for me to say except: GAMBIT! SQUEE!

Sorry.

Anyways, in case you can't tell, this is not the _Origins_ Gambit. (Personally, while I like the movie, I've no idea why he's in it.) This is the _real _Ragin' Cajun, French phrases, references to Louisiana and all.

So, as you can tell, I'm pretty hyper. This is because I'm exhausted. I've been cracking to get this thing typed andto finish the handwritten copy—only two chapters and the epilogue left—_and _get some of the sequel done, which I may or may not post. That depends on you.

No real translations needed today. Be happy. Oh, wait! "_Boozhoo_" is an Ojibwe word for "hello." Also, the character of Jim Clearwater is mine. I made him up. In truth, he is based on a friend of my family, only younger. Cool, en it?

Okay, that's all. Don't forget to review!


	16. Chapter 16

**16. CONDITION**

"Up, down…don't give up, Imp, ya just have five more to go…ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred." Logan sounded pleased.

This conditioning was torture. I had just done a hundred crunches, while hanging from the pull-up bar by my _knees_. But the pain was worth it if it meant that we'd be more prepared for the rescue mission. It helped that the others had to suffer right along with me ("others" being Jean, Scott, Bella, Hank, Warren, Wanda, Kitty, Peter and Jubilee; Ororo didn't train because the F.O.H. base was underground and she wasn't going due to her claustrophobia, Danielle wouldn't be joining us and Logan didn't count).

"Nice job, Squirt," Warren commented as he did his push-ups.

Logan glanced around, checking up on the others. "Well, Imp, you and Wanda are the first ones done. You can go ahead and leave."

Wanda met me at the door, and we left together. "Hey," she said. "Are you feeling okay?"

I rolled my eyes. "I wish people would quit asking me that question." Wanda's expression was genuinely apologetic, so I decided to answer her anyway. "And no, I'm not okay. Not terrible, but not okay."

She studied me for a moment. "Do you think he feels the same way you do? Kurt, I mean."

I stopped in my tracks, startled. "What are you talking about?"

"Come _on_, Elyon," she scoffed. "Don't pretend you don't know. I've seen the way you stare at him, with your eyes all longing and an expression on your face that says you don't want to look away from him. And you're so protective over him, and don't think I haven't noticed you two flirting with each other."

"We flirt with each other?" Since when?

She nodded. "Yeah." She patted my shoulder. "You're in love. It's okay to say it."

"Fine." I put my hands in my pockets. "Are you worried?"

She hesitated before answering. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm worried that our efforts won't be good enough. I'm worried that I don't have enough control over my powers. I'm worried that they'll kill Kurt and my brother. Are you worried?"

We boarded the elevator. "You _might _say that," I said. "But I'm still gonna try. I have an ego to mend and a reputation to maintain."

"Not to mention that they're holding the man you love prisoner."

"Yeah. That too."

She laughed at my casual tone. Then she said, very softly and reassuringly, "You know, if you ever need to talk about anything, you can come to me. Think of me as someone you can confide in."

"Thanks," I said, a little surprised by her offer. The elevator door opened then, and we went our separate ways.

* * *

"Hey." Kurt looked up at LeBeau, surprised. The new arrival hadn't before addressed him in the hours since he'd been locked in the cell. "What's your name?"

"Kurt Wagner," Kurt replied, uncertain if he should have said anything. "Nightcrawler."

LeBeau nodded. "It's nice t'officially meetcha," he said. "I'm Remy LeBeau. You heard them in there—I call myself Gambit." He spoke with an interesting Southern accent. Definitely a born-and-raised Cajun.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Kurt said.

Remy LeBeau turned his head up to look at Kurt with his strange eyes. "You a gamblin' man, Mr. Wagner?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, not really."

"Ah," said Remy. "I'm more of a dealer m'self. But when they give me this here collar" — he tugged at the power inhibitor, aggravated — "they took my cards. Would you help me get them back?"

"Of course I would," Kurt responded.

Remy didn't smile, but instead inclined his head toward him. "_Merci, __mon __ami__._"

"My pleasure," said Kurt. They were quiet.

Then Remy asked, "You got a girl where you're from?"

"What?" Kurt was caught off guard.

"Nothin'," Remy said quickly. "You just seemed to me like a man who'd have somebody. Not me, though. I mean, I used to. But now I don't know where she is, or even if she's still alive. I haven't seen her in over a year, thanks to all these jobs I've been gettin'."

"What sort of jobs?" Kurt wondered, as the other man had said the word with an odd nuance.

Remy chuckled to himself. "Trust me, you don't wanna know."

Kurt frowned. "Oh." He supposed Remy's vocation wasn't exactly to be considered pleasant. "It's probably better than being a proctologist."

Remy laughed. "I like you, Mr. Wagner. You's a good spirit. Now, enough 'bout me. You gonna tell me 'bout that girl o' yours?"

"Well, she isn't really my girl," Kurt sighed. "I think she feels the way I do, but she's difficult to read in that area, so I can't tell with her."

"I see." Remy looked like he was contemplating the subject. "But you love her, yes?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I—yes."

"That's good," said Remy. "Where's she from?"

"East Tennessee," said Kurt.

Remy half-smiled. "Another good thing. Folks from there tend to be real friendly. She ever lived anywhere else?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not to my knowledge. She spent a lot of time in western North Carolina when she was growing up, though."

"What for?" Remy asked.

"She would visit her grandmother on the Cherokee reservation," Kurt answered.

"She's Cherokee?" Remy's eyes widened in incredulity.

"Half," Kurt specified.

Remy whistled under his breath and leaned against the wall. "I reckon she's a real looker."

"Yes." Kurt smiled faintly as he thought of her. "She's beautiful."

Jim came in then, and the conversation ended.

* * *

The sun was delightfully warm on my face as I lounged in a chair on the deck, enjoying some down time and getting some much-needed Vitamin D. (I needed the Vitamin D to lighten my mood, and it was definitely working.)

I had been about to doze into a brief catnap when I heard footsteps on the brick. I opened my eyes to see Bella, Kitty, Rogue, Ororo and Jean standing by my chair.

"Mind if we join you?" Bella queried.

I raised my eyebrows. "Not at all."

They all made themselves comfortable. Kitty was on my left, Jean was on my right; Bella, Ororo and Rogue seated themselves across from us.

I glanced at Jean, since something seemed different about her today. I ended up doing a double-take on her left hand. "Jean! You never told me Scott popped the question," I said, eyeing the beautiful diamond ring on her finger.

"_What?_" the others all exclaimed at once, leaning forward in their chairs.

"Finally!" said Ororo. "It's only taken him _years_!"

"When did he ask?" Kitty inquired.

"We wanna know everything!" Rogue gushed.

"Come on, Jean! Spill!" Bella urged.

Since the others had already said everything, I simply nodded eagerly.

Jean laughed at us. "Okay, okay! He proposed last week, on the balcony outside our room, under the moonlight. It was very sweet and romantic. He got down on one knee and everything."

"Aww," we all cooed in unison.

"Have you set a date for the wedding?" I wondered, genuinely curious.

Jean shook her head. "No, not yet. But we're considering sometime next month."

A devious thought came to my mind, and I turned to Bella. "So, Bella," I said conversationally. "Any luck with the grumpiest mutant this side of the States?"

"Yeah," Ororo cut in. "How are things with Logan?"

Bella blushed a deep red. "I don't know. Umm…things are…okay, I guess."

"What about the young 'uns?" I looked at Kitty.

"We're doing all right," Kitty said. "I mean, we mostly just hang out, but just being with Peter's enough for me."

I knew they would have asked me about my luck with Kurt, but since he was…away, they refrained. I changed the subject. "Say, Kitty, when's the Professor doing your graduation thing?"

"June third," Kitty replied. "Why? You coming?"

I smiled at her—the first real smile I'd given in days. "Yeah. I'm coming."

She seemed very pleased, and I couldn't help but be happy too.

* * *

"What's her name?" Remy asked after they had eaten and Jim had taken their trays. "Your girl, I mean."

The word was bittersweet on Kurt's tongue; he knew that once they were reunited (he had faith they would be), it would be the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted and the loveliest sound to ever reach his ears. "Elyon."

Remy nodded his approval. "It's a nice name. What do you think she's doing now?"

Kurt shrugged. "She's probably training with the other X-Men, getting ready to rescue us."

"You really think so?" Remy's voice was quiet.

"I know it," Kurt assured him. "How did you end up here, anyway?"

Remy took a deep breath. "Well, I'mma give ya the whole back story. I got hired a couple weeks ago by a client called—oh, what was it? Essex, that was it. Anyways, Essex asked for a job, and he specially requested me. My daddy, Jean-Luc, didn't want me to go. But Essex said that he needed me to do it. He wanted me to retrieve a journal o' his, somethin' on genetics or whatever, an' he said it was here. So I get here, an' when I find it, there's all this horrible stuff in there, about experiments and such. I destroyed it, then contacted my daddy and told him I couldn't find it. Then, just as I was walkin' around and tryin' to figure out how to help the other guys here, I got caught. Not unlike you, Mr. Wagner."

"You're right," Kurt said. "And please, call me Kurt."

"Sure thing, Kurt," Remy grinned. "But only if you call me Remy."

"Okay," Kurt agreed. "So, how old are you, Remy?"

Remy smirked. "I just had my twenty-second birthday." He paused for a moment. "What's your Elyon look like? I mean, she got black hair, or…?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. Her hair is actually light brown, but it's darker than her skin. And she has these big, black eyes and dark lashes…I cannot really describe her. You will know her when you see her, though—she's tiny. I sometimes think that her personality doesn't fit inside her body."

"Really?" Remy seemed amused. "What's her personality like?"

"In a word, fiery." Kurt smiled. "But at the same time, she's grounded. She's difficult to explain."

"All the best people are." Remy studied Kurt inquisitively. "You miss her, _non_?"

Kurt sighed. "Immensely." He lowered his face glumly. "I should have kissed her," he determined. "That was what Logan—my friend—said. He told me to kiss her before we left. But I…oh, how do you call it?…I chickened out. And now, she's all I can think about."

Remy's expression was sympathetic. "She'd be all you could think about even if you had kissed her, my friend," he said softly. "Trust me on this one." He patted Kurt's shoulder comfortingly.

* * *

"Hello?" I said as I answered my cell phone. I was sitting on my bed, a little past nine at night.

"_Hey, Ellie. How's everything's going?_"

"Things are…okay, Mama," I said. _Not,_ I thought.

"_Just okay?_"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"_Oh._" Jen seemed surprised. "_Okay. How are your friends?_"

I answered her question very carefully. "They're doing all right. Bella's still head-over-heels for Logan. Warren is as good a friend as ever. Oh, and Jean and Scott are engaged to be married in June."

Jen sounded glad. "_Really? How nice for them! How's Kurt?_"

I flinched, and I was relieved she wasn't here to see it. "Kurt is…away right now. You know, X-Men stuff. But I miss him a lot."

"_I'll bet. You sound like it._" I could hear the grin in her voice. "_You like him, don't you?_"

I laughed at my mother's infectious enthusiasm. "Maybe," I hedged playfully.

"_Oh, come on, Ellie._" She was pouting.

"Fine. More than 'like,' Mama," I allowed.

"_Aw, my baby's got a first love,_" Jen cooed.

I groaned. "Shuddup, Mama. Besides, I don't even know if he feels the same."

"_I'm sure he does, honey. I'll tell your dad you said hi. He's had a long day, so he's asleep._"

"Okay. I love you, Mama."

"_Love you too, baby. Bye._"

"Bye." I hung up the phone and sat on my bed in silence for a moment. Then I decided to get up and see what other people were doing.

I meandered along on the first floor for a few minutes. As I passed the hall with the elevator, I heard voices—Logan and Bella. I turned invisible and peered out from behind the corner.

"Come on, Bells," Logan said. He stood in front of her, his arms slightly outstretched to express his earnest. "Tell me what's on your mind."

Bella's arms were crossed in front of her chest. "I'm just worried. About Kurt and Pietro. And Elyon, too. She's miserable."

"You don't have to worry," he told her. "We'll get them back."

"But what if we can't?" Her voice rose in panic. "What if we fail and we all—"

Abruptly, he kissed her, cutting her off. Her eyes widened in surprise. He pulled away after a couple seconds. "You talk too much," he told her before kissing her again. This time she wrapped her arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around her. It was about time.

I was plenty happy for them. But then I saw Kurt in my head, and my heart began to ache terribly, and I knew exactly why.

* * *

_**A/N: **_So this is probably my shortest chapter yet, so I'll just have to make up for it with my author's note. La, la, la, la, la…

Okay, this ain't gonna work.

Well, in summary, Kurt and Remy have gotten to know each other, Jean and Scott are engaged, Elyon's depressed and Logan and Bella are now secretly an item. But more to come later! Yay!

French translations:

"_Merci, __mon __ami__._" — "Thank you, my friend."

"_non_" — "no"

Don't forget to review, _s'il __vous__ plait_!

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	17. Chapter 17

**17. TIME**

The days were flying. The next four days meshed together and felt like two. I understand the reason for the rush, of course. We were in a race against time. Kurt and Pietro could be killed any day, any hour, any minute. They might even already be dead, as much as I didn't want to admit it.

It happened that, as I was walking down the hall with Wanda that Tuesday on our way to a training session, I was able to express this fear.

"So, Wanda," I said casually. "How are things going with…your dad?" It was still so weird that Magneto was Wanda and Pietro's father.

"All right, I suppose," Wanda answered. "It's just, you know, I haven't met him in twenty-four years, so…It's weird." She laughed lightly. Then she noticed that I wasn't laughing with her. "Are you feeling okay?"

I looked down at my moccasins. "Not exactly. Better than four days ago, but I'm still really worried." We got onto the elevator. "What if we run out of time?"

"We won't run out of time," Wanda said firmly. "I promise."

I managed a smile, though my concerns were not lifted.

* * *

"The newest arrivals are in here, Mr. Creed." Jim's voice was slightly shaky, Kurt noticed. The soft buzzing came from the door, and he and Remy exchanged anxious glances. The door opened.

A tall man entered. He wore a black suit and tie, and his pale brown hair was slicked back. His dark eyes made a stark contrast against his fair complexion. He carried himself like a king. Kurt decided he didn't like this man. "Excellent." He strode up to Kurt. "You must be Kurt Wagner." He spoke like a Northerner, or as Elyon said, a Yankee.

Kurt suddenly got idea of how he could push the man's buttons. "_Ja, ich bin Kurt Wagner. __Und __Sie__sind__ Graydon Creed. Habe ich Rechts?_"

The smug look vanished from Creed's face. Remy chuckled. "_Bonne idée!_" he praised.

Creed ignored him and turned to Jim, who stood behind him. "I thought Wagner spoke English," he hissed. "He lives in the United States!"

Jim shrugged. "Post-traumatic stress can do some funny things. He hasn't said a word since he got here." He barely managed to mask his amusement.

Creed huffed and moved to stand before Remy. "And you? What are you called?"

"_Le diable blanc,_" Remy replied nonchalantly.

Clearly frustrated, Creed clenched his jaw and walked to the doorway. "You," he barked, looking at Kurt. "Get up." Kurt obeyed, seeing as he probably didn't have a choice. "I hear you're quite the fighter. Though of course, that's with your powers, isn't it?" The self-satisfied grin was coming back. "We're going to see just how skilled you are at fighting when you can't teleport, by fighting me." Kurt's pulse quickened. He was going to fight this madman without his powers? "Is that clear?"

Kurt hid his anxiety and replaced it with mock seriousness, giving a stiff salute. "_Jawohl__._"

With a harsh expression, Creed turned and went into the hall. Kurt followed, as he had been instructed. "_Quatschkopf,_" he muttered.

"What?" Creed snapped.

"_Nichts,_" Kurt said quickly, and they went on their way.

* * *

Once I was alone in my room, I went over to my bed, where Kurt's duster was. I picked it up and held it close to me. The leather garment seemed to capture his essence somehow. It lessened the pain I felt. As I pressed it to my face, I realized that it even had his exact smell.

I twirled across the floor as I pretended that nothing was wrong, my senses full of the feel of the leather and his heady scent. Suddenly I heard something fall onto the floor. I stopped twirling to see what it was. It was a folded piece of paper with the letter C on it. I bent over to pick it up before sitting on my bed and unfolding it.

_My Elyon,_

_If you are reading this, then I have been captured. This may be a good thing, as I might be able to find Pietro from the inside. Also, at least I am not dead._

_You are probably very worried, or as you like to say, "all riled up." But I beg you not to worry. As of right now, I am fine, for I am alive and well, and I know that you are safe. You must focus on saving us all, but let no thoughts of me prompt you to put yourself in harm's way. In short, I want you to come for me, but carefully. I know you can do this. I believe in you._

_I look forward to being with you again. I hope we shall be together again, for when we are things will change. I shall not yet say how, since I have confidence you will come. No matter what they do to me, I will hold on for you. I promise._

_Faithfully yours,_

_Kurt_

"Oh!" I gasped, and I clutched the note to me.

He was alive! He was alive and waiting for me. He wanted me to come save him. He'd promised to keep living for me. What was more, he cared about me enough to know I was worried, and to tell me to be safe. And he'd called me _his_. I knew very well this was true; I'd already given him my heart.

I would do what he wanted. I would go and rescue him—them, since he'd asked me to save the other mutants, too. I would find him, and he'd wrap me in his arms and tell me how glad he was to see me, how much he'd missed me. Then I would look up into his bright, lovely yellow eyes and tell him sincerely how much I'd missed him, and I'd finally tell him that I loved him. If things played out the way I hoped, he would say he loved me, too. He would stroke my face, and at long last, we would kiss ardently, passionately, tenderly, without regard to any souls in the universe other than our own…

Whoa. I needed to snap out of it—I was swooning just imagining it.

I hid the note under my pillow, and with a renewed sense of determination, I marched out into the hall and went downstairs for a vigorous training session.

As I made my descent, I heard a girlish voice say, "Hey, Miss Ry—I mean, Elyon!" I turned to see Jubilee running down the stairs to catch up to me. She was a tiny girl, no taller than Kitty, but she was still taller than I was. She wore her hair in pigtails today, reflecting her bubbly, sunny demeanor.

"Hi, Jubilee," I said, my voice brighter than I expected. Her cheerfulness must have carried over to me.

"Are you going down to train?" When I nodded, she seemed excited. "Me, too! Dani has to study for her final, though, so she's not coming with me."

"How is Dani?" I asked. I hadn't spoken to the girl since she returned.

Jubilee was thoughtful for a moment. "She feels really guilty. She thinks because she went instead of you, the mission failed. She thinks it's her fault you've been so sad."

I frowned. Poor Danielle. "Can you tell her that it's not her fault? And that I'm not mad at her?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

With that peace of mind, we continued on our way to train.

* * *

Creed paced across the floor, his eyes flashing dangerously. He was no longer in his suit, instead wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants. Kurt watched him warily.

The arena was a big, square, gray room, with a few platforms for climbing and the like, for which Kurt was glad. He had more of a chance of holding his own against Creed if he could climb.

"The rules are," Creed said, turning to face him, "there are no rules. Except one: After five minutes, a buzzer will go off. When you hear it, the fight is over. If you try to hit me after it goes off, that collar will shock you so hard you won't remember your name. Are we clear?"

Kurt only nodded.

"Good." Creed took a remote out of his pocket. "We'll have five minutes." He hit a button and put the remote back in his pocket. "First move is yours."

Taking advantage of the situation, Kurt ran over to one of the platforms, jumped, grabbed the edge and flipped onto it. Creed may have taken away his powers, but he couldn't take away his agility.

From there, he jumped and landed silently behind Creed. Then he reached out, grabbed Creed's elbow and flipped him over his back, turning as he did this.

Creed landed on his back with a low thud. "You are good," he muttered. Suddenly he performed a sweep with his legs, getting back onto his feet and nearly knocking Kurt off of his own. "But I can do better."

_Lieber Gott,_ Kurt thought.

* * *

"Okay, Jubilee!" I said when we were in the Danger Room. "That one was almost a bull's eye!"

She was firing plasma blasts from her hands at various targets, and she paused in this to stick out her tongue at me. I laughed.

I heard the door open, and turned at the waist to see who it was, since I was sitting Indian-style on the floor. Kitty entered, followed by Ororo.

"Hey," said Kitty.

"Hi," I said cheerily.

Kitty noticed Jubilee and called to her, "Hey, Jubes! Wanna practice?" Jubilee gave the affirmative, and they began practicing their powers against one another.

Ororo sat beside me. "You seem in a better mood."

"I am," I said simply. "Things are really looking up for—" At that moment, I felt a sharp, throbbing pain in my back, as though someone had thrown me onto it. It hurt so much that I promptly fell onto my side, gasping for air as the breath was knocked out of my lungs, and I writhed at the sudden agony.

"Elyon?" Jubilee's voice was shrill, but I hardly noticed her; my gut abruptly felt like it had been forcefully kicked.

When the attack was over, I looked up to see Ororo staring at me worriedly, and I heard Kitty call, "Are you okay, Elyon?"

"What happened?" Ororo asked.

I shook my head, clearing its fog. "I don't know." It was like some kind of bizarre connection had been made, and I'd been affected by a psychic link…I remembered something Bella had said, and I understood. _Professor?_

'_Yes, Elyon?'_ was Xavier's reply.

_I need a telepath. Now, please._

'_I can't come. I'm teaching on extracurricular class. Why do you need a telepath?'_

_Cerebro._

It was clear that he knew where I was going with this. _'I'll send Jean straightaway.'_

_Thank you._

* * *

"Stand up!" Creed snapped. "I don't have all day."

Kurt rolled his eyes in annoyance. He had just been kicked in the stomach, and this barbarian expected him to just rise to his feet? He didn't have any choice but to obey, however, so he got up and faced his adversary.

"You're getting tired, aren't you?" Creed interrogated as he began to circle Kurt. "Agitated…distracted…"

Indeed, Kurt was distracted. He couldn't stop thinking about Elyon, even though he knew he had to win this fight for her.

Abruptly, Creed slammed into him and pinned him against the wall with his forearm at his throat. As though reading Kurt's mind, he asked, "Have you ever been in love? Of course you have; you're in love now, I can see it on your face and in your eyes." Kurt glared at him. "And of course my men told me about her. Apparently she's a small woman, with a spitfire fighting style. They also say that she's very pretty, even though she's a half-Indian squaw." Elyon had told Kurt what that word meant, what its connotation was, and he snarled like an animal. Creed only smirked and went on, "I wonder how you would feel if she were harmed…if she were beaten into submission…?"

Kurt's anger ignited in his heart, and he struggled against Creed. He growled, "If you ever lay a hand on her…" _Mist._

"Hah!" Creed's expression was triumphant. "I knew that you speak English! You may have pulled the wool over Clearwater's eyes, but not me. And you don't need to worry about your little girlfriend. Even if she were human, I wouldn't want the half-breed near me."

That did it. Kurt's temper exploded, and he kneed Creed in the gut.

Creed doubled over. Then he grabbed Kurt and slammed him onto the floor. He crouched with one knee on Kurt's chest. "I win."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh inwardly. "The fight isn't over." With that, he wound his tail around Creed's ankle and flipped him hard onto his back, using the momentum to propel himself onto his feet. The buzzer went off and Kurt grinned, "You lose."

Furiously, Creed got up, seized Kurt's arm and marched him back to his cell without another word.

* * *

_Cerebro certainly is a big, round room, _I thought as I entered with Ororo and Jean. Really, Cerebro was perfectly spherical, with metal plates covering the walls, and it was enormous. There was a narrow catwalk that extended to the center of the room, and at the end was a circular platform. On the platform was a chair, what appeared to be some sort of desk and a headpiece that was hooked up to it. There were lights along the catwalk to illuminate our path.

"Before we start looking for Kurt," Jean said, "I guess I should explain how this works. Come on." She walked to the chair and sat in it while Ororo and I moved to stand behind her. She put on the headpiece, and the round door at the entrance closed.

Almost instantly, a digitized map of the world assembled in the vacant space in front of Jean, stretching almost to the walls and ceiling. It was even cooler than Ororo's power or Logan's claws. There were white dots covering it, and to a lesser extent, red dots. "These white dots are all of the world's humans," Jean explained. The white dots disappeared, leaving the red dots. "And the red ones are all of the world's mutants."

"Gosh," I breathed in awe. "There are so many!" Not quite as many as there were humans, but there had to be at least tens of thousands, if not a million. We were definitely not alone.

The map focused in on the United States—there were red dots in every state, even Alaska. "Now, I know that Kurt's in Colorado," said Jean. "I just need to find his mental signature…There! Do you see it?" In the middle of the map, one red dot was glowing more brightly than the rest. "That's him. It means he's okay. You were right." She removed the headpiece, and Cerebro shut off. "Now, let's go check out that psychic link the Professor said you have with Kurt." She rose and left, and I followed her. I wanted to solve the mystery of this rapport.

* * *

When Jim escorted Kurt and Remy back to their cell from the showers (which were, Kurt was relieved to find, all separate from one another), the former of the prisoner duo sat down in the far right corner of the room. Jim had graciously informed him that it was Tuesday.

He was really beginning to feel dejected and a bit hopeless, even though he had bested Creed in that fight. He wished the others were hurrying as fast as they could. He was almost certain that they were, but there was no way to be sure. He took his Rosary from around his neck.

Remy must have seen him do this, for he rose from where he sat on his cot and came over to Kurt. "Mind if I join you?"

Kurt was a bit taken by surprise, but all the same he replied, "No, not at all."

Remy seated himself beside Kurt. They crossed themselves and began the prayers, using the Latin versions. As they prayed, Kurt felt a new bond form between them, a brotherhood of sorts.

As soon as they finished, they heard three sets of footsteps out in the hall. They exchanged a glance and crept discreetly over to the door to listen.

"Now"—Creed's voice made Kurt's stomach lurch, his jaw clench, his muscles tense, his hands ball into fists and his blood burn with hateful fire—"I don't want to have any trouble from you. I expect you to be civil."

"Of course." The woman's voice was low, smooth and sultry, but at the same time it was ice-cold and hard as diamond. "You only turned my own colleague against me, made him destroy my school and abducted me to serve your own ends. That calls for the utmost civility."

They heard the door of the cell to the left of theirs open. "Get in there!" ordered a harsh, unfamiliar male voice. Kurt and Remy turned to the window and saw an agent throw a woman onto the floor. The cell door closed, and the other two sets of footsteps left.

Remy and Kurt moved closer to the window to get a better look. The woman was young, in her mid-twenties, and they'd already made her don the prison uniform. Her straight, ash-blonde hair fell to the middle of her back, her brow was furrowed and her pretty, pale face was flushed with indignation. When she caught the two men watching her, she returned their gaze with steely blue eyes, even as she fingered the inhibitor collar around her smooth neck.

"Is there something you want?" Her tone was austere.

Kurt was hesitant to respond. This woman was intimidating and beautiful all at once, but not in the way that Elyon was. This woman actually frightened him a bit.

However, Remy, suave as he was, replied instantly. "Forgive us, _chère_. We've been largely without company but each other for the last few days, and we was only lookin' to introduce ourselves. My name's Remy LeBeau, and this here's my friend, Kurt Wagner."

The woman's suspicious expression quickly became a smirk. "All right, then. It's a pleasure to meet both of you. I'm Emma Frost."

* * *

I fidgeted as I sat in a chair in Xavier's office, Jean standing by me. Yes, Bella had pulled some information from my brain when we first met, but I'd never really had my mind probed before. I wondered what it was like. Hopefully it wouldn't hurt.

"Elyon," Xavier said as he sat in front of me in his wheelchair. "I need you to relax. I may not get an accurate reading otherwise."

"Sure thing, Professor." I steadied my breathing and attempted to calm myself.

I must have been successful, for a few seconds later, Xavier raised both of his hands so that they hovered by either side of my head. "I will warn you," he told me, "this may be slightly uncomfortable. Simply remain at ease, and we should have very little difficulty. All right?"

_All right, _I thought. Almost immediately, my eyes closed, as though I was under some kind of spell.

I began to feel detached from myself, so I knew that the process had started. I actually wasn't all that uncomfortable; mostly, I just had the sensation of opening a few heavy doors. I wondered what Xavier was finding.

In a sudden rush, I came back to myself. Tentatively, I opened my eyes. "Well? Did you get anything?"

"I found a bond," Xavier said, moving his hands from my head and resting his elbows on the arms of his wheelchair. "It isn't new, but it isn't very old, either—less than two months. I would say it was formed near the beginning of April."

"What kind of link is it?" Jean asked.

Xavier spoke to both of us now. "It is very different from anything I've encountered before. Rather than a highway between thoughts, it affects your nerve endings instead, and it can be activated in two ways." He looked at me. "The first and most obvious, Elyon, is through your own conscious effort. The second is for Kurt to call out to you in his mind. Since this first experience happened seemingly at random, I would say it was the latter case."

Jean turned to me. "And seeing as neither of you knew about the link, he must have cried out involuntarily. He probably doesn't even know it happened."

I leaned forward in my chair, furrowing my brow. "So that pain I felt in the Danger Room…that wasn't a psychic attack at all. It was just what Kurt was feeling." This troubled me. It wasn't just his mind that had been assaulted. He had really been hurt.

"Yes." Xavier placed a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry about it. The activation of the bond let us know that we have hope yet."

I nodded. "Okay." I reminded myself that Kurt was still alive. As long as I remembered that, I would be fine.

* * *

_**A/N: **_And this one's much longer than the last chapter, thank goodness. I don't really have much to say now. This is awkward…

Oh, yes, this Emma Frost is not the one from _First Class_. In fact, she is the one from _Origins_, though she does have a relation to _First Class _Emma. More on that later.

I'm getting a bit tired of providing translations. So this is where they end. I'm sorry.

Anyhoo, don't forget to review!

(note: chapter has been updated since initial publication)


	18. Chapter 18

**18. EXPLOSIVE**

"A psychic link, huh?" Wanda pursed her lips.

"Yeah." I nodded. We were sitting outside on the deck, in the sun. "The Professor said it's been there since April. But he doesn't what caused it." Personally, I thought he _did_ know, and that he just wasn't telling me.

Wanda looked at me. "Can you think of what it could be?" She tucked a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear.

Only one instant came to mind—when Kurt had told me about his brother, when I'd let him through the last of my emotional barriers, when he occupied a space in my heart. It was the first time I had seen a grown man weep without compromising his dignity. It was the first time I had really comforted a person. It was the first time I had hugged someone who wasn't a relative. So many firsts, all on one night. I couldn't say anything about this to Wanda, though. It wasn't my story to tell. "No. I can't think of anything."

"That's too bad." Wanda tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. "So, basically, you and Kurt are like…mindlink mates now, or something?"

Her terminology bemused me. "Mindlink mates?"

"Mm-hmm. You know, as in, mates with a psychic link."

"Oh." I blushed. "Umm…Not the 'mates' part, then."

"Not yet," she allowed. "But eventually."

I laughed under my breath. "You seem awfully certain."

Wanda grinned. "I can tell you this. Even if he doesn't feel _exactly_ the same way about you now as you do about him, I am determined to get you two together, if I have to go so far as to set up an unwitting date and spy on you to see how it goes."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, yes, that's a _brilliant _idea." I shook my head. "Besides, even if Kurt and I _could _go on a normal date, how would you keep up with us?"

"I'd be helping, of course," said Bella as she came out onto the deck. She leaned against the wall by my chair. "After all, who better than a psychic to make sure you two don't run off and elope or something while we're not looking?"

My face burned. Bella chuckled when she saw it. "Elope?" I said. "Really?"

"Yeah," Bella replied indifferently. "You're both so secretive. You could end up being in a relationship without anyone suspecting it. But next thing you know, there's a little blue-skinned kid running loose in the mansion and…" She trailed off.

"That's ridiculous." I slouched in my seat. "It's not even like that. There's no guarantee that it will _ever _be like that."

"All the same," Wanda chimed, "I think you and Kurt would have the cutest babies." There was just a tinge of envy in her voice.

I smiled as I thought of that, but I banished the concept quickly from my brain. I didn't have time for such fantasies. Suddenly, I was reminded of something. I looked up at Bella. "Speaking of secret relationships, how's Logan?"

A flush colored Bella's face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I shrugged. "Okay." Wanda seemed interested, so I turned to her and mouthed, "Later."

Wanda obviously understood, and she changed the subject. "So Bella, are we ever going to hear about what happened on that motorcycle ride with Logan?" Indeed, this was a topic of curiosity.

Bella was apprehensive. "I don't know…He told me not to tell anyone."

"Please?" I made my tone as pitiful as was possible at the moment.

The auburn-haired telepath sighed. "Okay."

* * *

Over the course of the last hour or so, Kurt and Remy had heard Emma Frost's back story—or, at least, what she wanted them to know—and they had told her theirs. Emma's tale was quite interesting. It seemed that she began teaching another school for mutants in Massachusetts, of which she was also the headmistress. A former ally of hers paid her a visit just yesterday, but she discovered that he had been hired by Graydon Creed. By the time she found this out, it was too late. Her school was destroyed, most of her students were killed and she was taken here.

Kurt didn't think this was her whole story, but he would accept it for now.

Once they had all relayed their accounts, Emma looked at Remy. "So, Mr. LeBeau," she said. "What can you do?"

"I can charge objects with energy when I touch them," Remy answered. "Usually they explode."

"Hmm." Emma looked thoughtful. "Mr. Wagner?"

"Call me Kurt," he invited her. He wasn't quite so timid to talk to her now.

"Kurt," Emma repeated. "What are your gifts?" She shifted a little closer to the window, though she remained on her knees.

"I'm a teleporter," Kurt informed her. "I can also crawl on walls, see in the dark and meld into shadows."

Emma raised her eyebrow a bit. "All of that? How interesting. Such a plethora of abilities is rare, unless the person who has them is a second-generation mutant. I'd like to see them demonstrated when we get out of here. That is, assuming we'll ever get out." She eyed Kurt skeptically. "Are you sure these X-Men of yours are coming? Or is that just wishful thinking on your part?"

"I am certain," Kurt said firmly. "They will come."

Emma heaved a sigh and leaned against the wall of her cell.

* * *

Bella leaned forward conspiratorially. "Okay, so when Logan and I went on that bike ride, we started heading north, on a back road through the woods. Everything was going fine until he stopped the bike and said that he smelled something. He started the bike again and we went into the trees. Personally, I thought this was strange, because I wasn't picking anything up. But I trusted him.

"He stopped the bike, we got off and we started looking around. Logan knew what we were looking _for_, but I didn't, so I asked him. He said he had gotten a scent that was nearly identical to his. As soon as he said it, a girl jumped out from the bushes and attacked him. She couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen, but she was a match. Logan told me to stay back. I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do. The girl knew how to block psychic attacks."

How peculiar. "Who was she?" I asked. Wanda was bending over in her seat, interested.

"Hang on," said Bella. "I'm getting to that. Anyway, at first I thought the girl was just insane, but then she showed us her weapons—two claws on each hand and one on each foot. Not just any claws, _adamantium_-laced claws."

Wanda drew in a sharp breath. "Like Logan!"

Bella nodded. "That's when I knew that there had to be more to this than I originally thought.

"She was a good fighter, and she was obviously very angry. When Logan finally asked her what was wrong, she accused him of being the problem, so he asked what she meant. She said something along the lines of, 'Everything I am is because of you!' After a few more minutes, Logan got her to calm down. He asked for her name, and she handed him a piece of paper from her pocket. Through Logan's eyes, I could read it. It was heartbreaking; it seemed to be a letter from her mother before her death. Then the girl told us that her name was Laura.

"Logan sat her down and asked her how she got there. She talked about growing up in some kind of facility, having her claws extracted and bonded with adamantium, being trained to be the perfect weapon. She explained that she was the twenty-second such experiment, and the only successful one, so until her mother called her Laura, the only name she knew for herself was X-twenty-three. I asked her why she blamed Logan for everything. She said that she didn't necessarily _blame_ him, but that the whole reason she was here was because of Logan's mutation."

I understood then, what this X-23 meant by that. "She's a clone of him, isn't she?"

Bella shrugged. "Basically. But the sample of Logan's DNA the facility had was damaged and it was missing the Y-chromosome, so they replaced it with an X. So she's more like an artificially-created daughter, genetically speaking."

I was speechless. Wanda spoke up instead. "Then what?"

"Logan and I offered to take her back here," Bella replied. "But she refused. Then she said goodbye and ran off. She could be anywhere by now."

We were silent.

* * *

Kurt could feel Emma's eyes on him, so he looked up at her. She gazed at him for a few more seconds, as though making sure that she had his attention. Then she asked, "Why is that Elyon person so special to you?"

He wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly. "_Wie __bitte__?_"

"The woman you mentioned earlier," Emma said, sounding slightly annoyed. "Elyon. You spoke of her rather fondly. Why?"

Remy had moved to the window when he heard Emma voice her question. Before Kurt could respond tactfully, Remy said, "'Cause she's his girl, o' course. Why else?" Kurt glared at him disdainfully. His cellmate was lucky that he was, for the most part, a pacifist.

"I would like to answer for myself, if you don't mind," he said. Remy held up his hands in a "you win" gesture, chuckling. Kurt then turned back to Emma and said, "Elyon is my very good friend, and we are very close, but we are not involved in that way."

"You wish you were, though," Emma observed, to Kurt's surprise. "I don't need my telepathy to see it. You're in love with her."

Kurt lowered his head, embarrassed. "Yes."

"And you think she's coming to save us with your X-Men." Her tone was matter-of-fact.

Kurt looked back up at her. "I have faith in that."

"Even though it's nearly impossible to infiltrate this place without being caught, let alone to free an inmate?"

"Who knows? Perhaps the Lord will help us." Kurt found his own hopes lifting as he spoke. "After all, nothing is impossible with God."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I don't need a sermon."

Kurt was stunned, and he found himself gripping his Rosary for comfort. Emma clearly saw that she had hurt him, and there was an almost imperceptible gleam of regret in her eyes. He barely noticed it himself. Even so, he decided to let her know that he knew that she was sorry. Very quietly, he said, "I forgive you."

Emma raised her head, a small smile on her face. "You're quite the incredible paradox, Kurt Wagner."

Kurt smiled, too. He knew that all too well.

* * *

Scott came onto the patio. "Hey. We're having Danger Room session in ten minutes."

"We'll be right there," Bella said. Scott adjusted his glasses before leaving.

Wanda and I rose from our chairs, and the three of us went inside. Bella and I walked behind Wanda. My telepathic friend was pursing her lips, the way she always did when she was deep in thought. "What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"I was just wondering," she said dismissively.

"About what?" I was curious, and it wasn't like I could read minds, so I had to pry.

She glanced around as we boarded the elevator. _'I was wondering why the Professor didn't let us go on the other mission in the first place,' _she admitted. _'I know I didn't act like it bothered me, but it did. A lot. But I don't have the guts to ask him about it, nor do I want to be disrespectful. Could you talk to him?'_

Huh. It wasn't exactly my problem anymore, since I had accepted it and mostly moved on. However, if Bella couldn't work up the courage to make an inquiry, then doing it for her would be a good thing.

_Sure, _I thought as we exited into the lower levels. _I'll talk to him._

'_Thanks.'_

_No problem._

* * *

Kurt and Remy stiffened when they heard the scuffle of footsteps in the hall. There seemed to be a struggle. They looked at Emma, who was just as apprehensive.

Emma's door opened, and two agents tossed a girl with straight, dark brown hair into the cell. "She's a tough one," one of them said. "Too bad she doesn't put up much of a fight without her powers." He approached the girl on the floor and kicked her hard in the stomach.

Remy started up, but Kurt held him back, even though seeing the abuse angered him, too. Emma was obviously appalled.

With narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, she stood and went up to the agent. Had he paid attention, he might have stood a chance. Since he didn't, Emma was able to pull back her arm and easily throw a punch to his face. He fell to the floor, stunned. Emma grabbed his head and forcefully removed his helmet before bashing his head against the floor, knocking him out.

The other agent looked horrified. He would have escaped out the door, but Emma got him in a chokehold and kept her arms around his neck until he was unconscious. She dropped him on the floor and turned to the window.

"Can you fit through there?" she asked.

"We might be able to," Remy answered.

"I'll go first," Kurt volunteered, although he wasn't sure if he could make it through. He balanced on the cot below the window, placed his hands on the ledge and swung through into the cell. Remy followed his lead.

Kurt could feel someone's eyes on him, and he looked at the girl who'd been thrown in here. Her pale face was oddly familiar, and it didn't take him long to realize that she looked almost exactly like Logan, though her features were more delicate and her eyes were a different color; she could have passed for his daughter. Her green eyes were wide with fear, but he could sense that it wasn't fear of him.

He crouched in front of her. "Hello. What's your name?"

She studied him for a moment. "Laura," she said.

He held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Laura. My name is Kurt." When she only stared at his hand, he withdrew it a bit awkwardly and stood. "We are trying to get out of here, but we must hurry. Do you want to come with us?" Once more he offered his hand. This time, she took it, and he helped her to right herself.

"Come on!" Emma urged them as she held the door opened. Kurt ran out to the hall behind Remy with Laura at his heels.

* * *

In the midst of so much stress, battling holographic Sentinels was relaxing. After we were finished, though, everything came rushing back. It was enough to give me a headache.

Bella walked beside me down the hall. "So, I heard about that psychic link you have."

"A psychic link? With whom?" The voice which spoke startled me, making me jump. I turned to see Mystique walking by my other side.

"Um." I blinked, still trying to register this. Was Mystique really talking to _us_? "Um, ah…it's, uh…It's with Kurt." Mystique nodded and turned her eyes from me.

"Anyway," Bella went on, "what kind of link is it?"

"The Professor said it affects my nerve endings," I explained. "When I first felt it, I…my back _hurt_, like someone threw me onto it, and then it felt like I got kicked in the stomach. And that was what Kurt was feeling. They were _hurting _him." My hands balled into fists.

Mystique quickened her pace and strode onward. I stared after her, puzzled by her reaction. Why did she care so much? What did any of this matter to her? I would have to find out later.

* * *

The group stopped at a corner and hid. Emma kept Laura behind her while Remy peered around into the hall, as he was in front. Kurt could only hope that they wouldn't get caught.

"Are we clear?" Emma's voice was tense.

"We're good," Remy reported. "Let's go!" He walked cautiously into the hall. Kurt, Emma and Laura went behind him.

The cells in this wing of the facility had windows in their doors, and as they passed, Kurt could see all kinds of mutants. There was a normal-looking boy with dark hair, a Japanese girl with blue hair and another girl with red hair and skin that looked to be made of metal. In another cell were five more girls, all with straight, shoulder-length blonde hair. When they turned to look at him, Kurt could see that they were identical quintuplets. They also bore a strange resemblance to Emma, but that was probably just a coincidence.

_Poor souls, _Kurt thought. These children didn't deserve to be imprisoned like this.

He looked at Emma. The expression on her face was sad. Even so, she took the lead. "Let's keep going," she said. "Now, Kurt, where is this Pietro you were looking for?"

"I don't know," Kurt said truthfully as they rounded the corner. "They caught me when we were searching." In his periphery he saw Laura stop in her tracks. He turned to her. "Laura? What's wrong?"

"Listen," said Laura. "Can you hear that? Footsteps." Since she pointed it out, he could. His muscles tensed.

Remy began to jog. "We gotta move fast!"

As they hurried down the hall, both Kurt and Emma checked through all the windows for Pietro. He had given her a description so that she would know what to look for, but they had no luck. Suddenly, Kurt heard a muffled voice shout his name.

"Kurt! Kurt, I'm in here!"

Kurt rounded back to the source of the sound, and he was filled with relief when he saw who was standing at the window of the cell door. "Pietro!"

Pietro's silver-white hair was rumpled, his face was so wan that he blue eyes stood out remarkably, he looked underfed and he had a large purple bruise on the right side of his face, but he was alive. This was good news.

"_Hey!_" Kurt wheeled to see five agents standing at the other end of the hall, each wielding either a tranquilizer gun or a regular shotgun. "_Stop right there!_"

Kurt's blood ran cold.

Remy grabbed Laura's wrist. "Run!" They took off at a sprint. Emma and Kurt bolted after them.

As they ran around the corner, there was a clanking sound against the wall which was now beside them. It couldn't be a shotgun, unless they had silencers, but judging from the low volume of the sound it was easy to determine the weapon in use to be a tranquilizer gun.

Kurt turned and saw an agent standing at the mouth of the corridor with his gun at the ready. Thinking quickly, Kurt darted for the man, and when he was a few feet away he dropped onto his side, sliding between the agent's legs and seizing the firearm with his tail. Then he stood, took the gun in his hands and hit the agent on the uncovered area at the back of his head with the butt, promptly knocking him unconscious.

The four escapees started onward again, but were quickly intercepted by the remaining agents, who had entered from the hall in front of them.

Emma punched the lead one square in the jaw. He tried to grab his hair, but Laura kicked him in the gut and proceeded to give him a thorough beat-down. Remy was holding his own with a blend of standard punches and kicks and some interesting gymnastic maneuvers.

Kurt felt a prick at his jugular vein. _Not again,_ he groaned in his head. Luckily, the sedative was not as fast-acting this time. He resumed fighting, and to his surprise, he was rather enjoying the act of punishing these barbarians. However, he noticed that within a few minutes, the rest of the runaways had darts in their skin, as well.

Still they fought. They would not give up without a struggle.

Soon, though, Kurt's vision blurred and darkened. He heard the others falling around him. Then he collapsed onto the floor, and everything went black as he felt himself slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

I ran into Kitty as I headed to the stairs on the third-floor landing. "Hey," she said. "Where are you going?"

"Hey, Kitty," I said. "I was just going to talk to the Professor."

"Oh, I know where he is," Kitty told me. She steered me away from the stairs. "This way!" She led me over to the elevator, pressed the button and we stepped inside. She then pressed the button for the first level of the subbasement, and we started going down.

"How did you know where he is?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "I was curious, so I asked Jean and she told me. She said that he was in Cerebro with Mystique." Her voice held a slight ring of disdain when she mentioned our guest.

"Curiosity killed the Kitty," I joked, though I secretly wondered what Mystique was doing in Cerebro with Xavier.

Kitty laughed. "Not this time." We got off at the subbasement. We turned to Cerebro's closed doors. "Come on!" Unexpectedly, she grabbed my hand and began running.

"Whoa! Uh, Kitty—" I didn't get to finish my statement, since we were now sprinting toward the doors. I squeezed my eyes shut.

It felt as though my body had been just barely taken apart, so that the molecules remained very close to one another, but at the same time I felt sandwiched between the molecules of the metal in all places. It was the strangest sensation I'd ever experienced.

All the same, we now stood on Cerebro's catwalk. I bent over, placing my hands on my knees and trying to focus my breathing. I couldn't stop shaking, and I felt far woozier than I had my first time teleporting. "Thanks," I huffed. I looked up to see what was going on.

"No problem," Kitty replied.

"Hello, Kitty, Elyon," Xavier said as he placed the headpiece on the desk. Mystique stood by him, seeming less tense than she had been for the last few days. "Kitty, if you could escort Mystique out, I would greatly appreciate it."

Mystique walked over to the girl. Kitty reluctantly took her hand and phased them through the doors.

Xavier turned his chair and wheeled up to me. "Now, Elyon. I understand that you wish to speak with me."

I nodded. "Yeah." I composed myself and righted my posture. "Bella wanted to know why you didn't let us go on the initial rescue. She would have come to you, but she didn't want to look disrespectful, so here I am." I clasped my hands in front of me.

"I knew that one of you would eventually ask." He heaved a deep sigh and rested his right hand on the arm of his wheelchair. "You see, Elyon, while you and Bella and Wanda would all have been useful on that mission, you all have certain…quirks, which would have inhibited you from doing your very best. Wanda isn't mentally stable, though I still work with her regularly. Bella has incredible potential as a telepath, but she doesn't have a very firm handle on her powers. And though you have experience with your powers, and I could easily classify you as an Alpha-level mutant, you worry too much about others. To be more specific, Elyon, I know how you feel about Kurt. I know you would put your life on the line to save him without a second thought. Love this strong is an admirable trait, but I could not risk losing you. Do you understand?"

So Jean had told the truth. Xavier's decision really had been in our best interests. "Yes," I said. "I understand."

Xavier smiled. I smiled down at him in return, and we left Cerebro side-by-side.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ And thus concludes Act Three. I'll try to post Act Four tomorrow. We'll just have to see. I _will _give you a spoiler: Chapter 22 is called "Sacrifice." Try to figure that out.

Please review!


	19. Chapter 19

**19. BLOODLINES**

I could do this. It couldn't be _that _hard. All I had to do was ask a question. That was all. How difficult could that be?

Well, I supposed more of my nervousness had more to do with the content of the question and whom I was asking. But it was still just a question. _Be brave, Elyon, _I told myself as I walked into the parlor and approached my subject. _Be brave. _"Um…Mystique?"

The blue woman on the couch made no indication that she'd heard me.

I decided to try again. "Mystique, can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away." It seemed as though she was only saying this so that I would get it over with and leave her alone.

I remained standing, feeling awkward and, to be completely honest, a little afraid. "Mystique…I don't really know you very well, but it seems like you care a lot about this rescue mission. Why is that?" _Please don't bite my head off, please don't bite my head off, …_

She glanced at me from out of the corners of her eyes. "I just do."

"Oh." Well, that didn't tell me much, so I decided to go for a different tactic. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I thought that it had something to do with Kurt, is all." She stiffened when I said his name. _Bingo._ "It doesn't have anything to do with him, does it?"

"Why do you want to know?" Her voice was cold.

I feigned surprise. "I was only curious. You don't have to eat me for it. I just wanted to know why you seem to care so much. Why does it matter? What's so important?"

She faced me head-on, her expression hard and impenetrable, the way Kurt's was when he was annoyed. "Why does it matter to _you_?"

I frowned. "_Touché._" We stared at one another for a few moments, each trying to read the other, but evidently we both were unsuccessful. I broke the silence with another inquiry. "But if you aren't exactly Magneto's ally anymore, why did you come here with him?"

"_Look,_" she said. Her yellow eyes were steely. "Magneto has his reasons for being here. I have mine."

I heaved a frustrated sigh. "Fine. If you won't give me an answer, then I guess I just won't ask again. Don't know why I tried. Why should I expect to know _that _much about you? I don't even know your _name_!" With that I left.

This was possibly the most unsatisfying Wednesday ever. I hadn't learned anything. I was practically back to square one.

Mystique cared about Kurt, of that much I was certain. Why? I couldn't figure it out on my own, and she wouldn't tell me the reason. And then there was the resemblance between them. How was it that they looked so similar? It was truly odd. I didn't know how to explain it. The whole thing was quite vexing, to say the least. I felt like I should know, that it should be easy to see. But I knew so little about her. There was no way I could piece it all together.

On the bright side, we were setting off in four days. Only four days until we could save the mutant prisoners. Only four days until I would see Kurt again. I could hardly wait.

* * *

"I am _so _sorry," Emma said for the umpteenth time.

"You don't have to apologize," Remy told her, also for the umpteenth time.

They were all sitting in various corners in their cells. They spoke through the window, but they didn't see each other. Laura hadn't said a word in the hours since their recapture, but Emma had expressed her remorse for the failure of the escape attempt God knew how many times. Kurt was tired of hearing it, and obviously Remy was, too.

"It was not your fault," Kurt said. "We got caught, sure. But we had no real escape plan, anyway. We should have expected to fail."

"I know." Emma sighed. "But I feel so bad about this. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Remy sat up. "Well, at least we know this. Gettin' out on our own ain't gonna work. An' as much as it hurts my ego to say it, I think we should just be patient and wait for the X-Men to get here."

"The X-Men?" This was Laura.

"Yeah," Remy replied. "You heard of 'em?"

"Yes. Are you certain they are coming?" The girl spoke very proper English. Kurt hadn't noticed before.

"_Ja,_" Kurt responded. "They'll be here any day now. I promise." He said this to reassure Laura, yet at the same time he was trying to strengthen his own resolve. He knew he shouldn't doubt them, but it was getting more difficult every day. He had already been here for a week, and still they were waiting. All the same, he knew they would never just leave him here, especially not Elyon. _Have faith,_ he thought to himself. He clutched his Rosary.

At that moment, the doors of both cells buzzed. Emma and Laura's door was kicked open and two agents entered. Kurt and Remy's door opened more gently, which made sense as it was Jim who stood on the other side.

Over in the neighboring cell, one agent had seized Emma's arm and forced her to stand while the other had pinned a struggling Laura to the ground and was now emptying a syringe into the vein at the inside of her elbow. Laura promptly passed out, and the agent hoisted her onto his shoulders and started out with her, followed by his comrade and Emma.

Jim beckoned Kurt and Remy to stand. "Forgive me," he murmured. "Just following orders."

"We know, Jim," Kurt whispered. "It's okay."

They were led down the hall to a closed door. The door opened when the agent holding Emma knocked on it. A voice spoke. Kurt knew it, and it made his temper flare just to hear it.

"Ah, yes," Graydon Creed sneered. "Come in."

* * *

Hank peered through the overlarge magnifying glass at the fire above my hand. "Hmm…Put it out." I followed his order. "Now light it again."

I giggled as I ignited the flame. Hank looked so funny, what with his eye all enlarged and his brow furrowed. The magnifying glass was more than just that, however. On the other side was a monitor that measured my body heat and the heat of the air, as well as the air's energy charge. Hank wanted to see exactly how my still-relatively-new fire power worked.

"Aha!" he said. "Eureka!"

"What? Did you figure it out?" I inched closer to the edge of the examination table.

"I think I may have," he said. "If you would light it one more time and let me capture the image…Yes. I've got it. You may come and see."

I hopped off of the table and walked around to the other side of the glass. I could see my body's shape in an orange-red color. My hand was up, and right above it was what appeared to be a beam of a slightly different orange-red. Numbers and percentages were beside the figures. "What does all this mean?" I wondered.

"_This _is everything that happens when you create fire," Hank explained. "Or, to be more precise, when you light it. The potential for fire is already here, of course, with the nitrogen and oxygen atoms in the air. It seems that you simply project your own body heat into the air, as you can see here." He gestured to the picture of my hand and the beam. "That heat becomes concentrated in the air, causing the particles to expand and gain energy, thus creating more friction and, finally, making the particles erupt and convert into plasma; hence, conflagration."

Oh, I got it! "Like a match," I guessed. That explained why I could only make fire from my hands.

Hank nodded. "Quite like a match." He checked his watch. "Well, I nearly forgot."

"Nearly forgot what?" I asked.

"I notified Rogue that I would run a Danger Room scenario to analyze her flight, strength and durability," he said.

That would be interesting to see. "Can I come, too?"

"Of course you may." Hank smiled. I took one last look at his amazing laboratory, with all of its computers and beakers and chemicals, before walking with him to the Danger Room.

* * *

Once Kurt, Remy and Emma were bound with handcuffs, they were made to turn to the center of the room, where Laura was being restrained onto the examination table by her wrists and ankles.

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to watch this.

"Open your eyes!" Creed snapped. "I want you _all _to see this."

Reluctantly, Kurt opened his eyes. He saw an agent, whose nametag read "Pendleton," remove Laura's power inhibitor. After a few seconds, Laura blinked. She squirmed, trying to free herself when she realized her situation. Even in the dim light, and with his night vision shut off by his collar, Kurt could plainly see the blind fear written across her face.

Creed approached her side with that contemptuous look which Kurt had come to loathe. "Now, let's just see how well that healing factor of yours works." He motioned to Pendleton.

Laura glared up at Creed, baring her teeth and growling.

Pendleton fetched a scalpel from the dark wooden cabinet. Inside the cabinet were a lot of other weapons, including daggers, various swords and even a crossbow. Kurt had to admit that that was odd—_what does Creed need with a crossbow?_ Then Pendleton took the scalpel and slowly pressed it against Laura's arm. Laura clenched her jaw, but she was silent. Blood welled up from the wound. Pendleton took a rag and wiped her arm clean. To Kurt's surprise, the cut was gone!

"Get the knife," Creed ordered.

From the cabinet Pendleton withdrew a regular knife. He performed the same procedure as with the scalpel. Laura never said a word.

"Deeper," came Creed's bored-sounding command. This time Laura whimpered.

Kurt trembled. This was so difficult to endure. His heart went out to Laura. He looked over at his friends. Remy was shocked, and he seemed to be aching to help their companion. Emma was barely managing to hold herself back. With a hard gulp, Kurt turned back to watch.

Every time Pendleton cut deeper, Laura's façade came closer to breaking. The scene reminded Kurt of something, and he felt his anger boil when he figured out what it was. Although this was somewhat different, it was like Elyon's story was being played out in front of him. The people involved made it all the worse. Elyon was a grown-up woman, and what had happened to her still gave her nightmares. Now these monsters were doing the same thing to a mere girl.

Pendleton made another incision. Laura let out a bloodcurdling shriek. This was not what startled Kurt, however. Rather, it was the all-too-familiar sound he heard next: _Snikt!_

At that moment, two long metal claws extended from each of Laura's hands. Pendleton appeared frightened. "Proceed," Creed said.

"Filthy mutie," Pendleton muttered, slashing all the way down Laura's right arm. The once-clean knife was now covered in her blood, sending the stench of the fluid everywhere, and the room echoed with her screams. None of them could take this any longer.

Emma struggled against her agent. Remy pulled desperately against his handcuffs. Kurt was the only one who could find his voice.

"_Stop!_" he shouted. "That's enough! She's only a _child_! _Stop_!" His sudden outburst had taken some energy, and he was left panting. "Please," he finished softly.

Creed turned his head sharply in Kurt's direction. He was scowling, and his mouth was set in a hard line. "Pendleton. You know the drill." As Pendleton polished the blades, Creed stalked up to Kurt slowly, making every step very deliberate. "You are _really _beginning to grate on my nerves." He swiftly punched Kurt in the gut, causing him to double over and gasp for breath, and crouched before him. "You have no idea how _badly _I want to kill you right now."

Kurt took a few moments to regain his breath. He looked Creed in the eyes as steadily as he could. "If you want to…kill me…so…badly, then why haven't…you done it…already?" He was tempting fate, but he didn't care.

Creed chuckled under his breath. So lowly that only they could hear, he muttered, "Because when I kill you, I want our dear mother to see it."

"_Our" mother?_ "What are you talking about?" Kurt had a horrible feeling about this, but he had to know what Creed meant by his words.

The older man's upper lip curved in disgust. "Didn't you know, Wagner?" He lowered his voice even more, and now Kurt barely heard him. "_I'm your half-brother._"

No! No, this—this wasn't true. Couldn't be true. Impossible. As much as Kurt wanted to believe these initial thoughts, Creed's face told him otherwise. He wasn't lying. But since he wasn't lying, then wouldn't he know…?

"If you're my half-brother," Kurt said hesitantly and just as quietly as Creed, "then who is our mother?" This would be one piece of his existence's mystery solved.

Creed just smirked. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough." He stood. "Get them out of my sight."

* * *

I had to admit, Rogue's Colonel Danvers-acquired powers were very impressive. She was much more in control of her flying abilities, her strength was amazing and her durability was astonishing. I was definitely glad that she was coming with us.

Once Rogue's Danger Room session was over, I went up to my room to be alone for a little while. I closed my door and went to my bed to fish under my pillow for Kurt's note. Then I grabbed his duster, sat down on my bed and read the note again, letting my thoughts take flight.

I normally wasn't one to be all mushy or to have notions which were so sugary that they tasted like diabetes, but even thinking about Kurt made me view the world through rose-tinted glasses. Everything seemed to be beautiful and wonderful because he was. He was thoughtful, gentlemanly and sweet, and this was only evidenced by his note. It made the love in my heart overflow, for lack of a better description. I hugged his duster to my chest and enjoyed his scent.

_Just four more days, _I thought. _Just four more days till we come for you, Kurt. Four more days till we're bringing you home._

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't given our reunion much consideration. What exactly was I going to say to him? Something aloof, or maybe more sentimental? I supposed it didn't really matter. I'd go with the "wing it and hope for the best" plan now.

There was a knock on my door. I quickly placed the note back under my pillow and draped the duster over the footboard. "Come in!" The door opened, and I blinked in surprise when I saw who it was. "Mystique. What are you…?"

"I came to answer some of your questions," she said. "I tried to earlier, but you had disappeared."

Oh. "I, ah—I was with Dr. McCoy," I told her sheepishly and feeling a little embarrassed. "He was testing my fire power. He wanted to know how I do it."

"So it's not an illusion?"

"Why would it be an illusion?" I asked, confused.

She closed the door behind her. "Xavier said that you can trick the mind with illusions."

I couldn't help but smile a little at the misunderstanding. "I can't create illusions for the eyes. It's real fire." I snapped with my right hand. A small flame hovered over my index finger. I extinguished it with the slightest thought. "But I don't even really 'create' that. I just ignite the air particles with friction from my body heat, like a match or flint."

She scrutinized me for a moment. "Pyro would be jealous."

Pyro? Oh, right, Pyro. He had been a member of Magneto's Brother of Mutants before they disbanded last year. He had made a few appearances on the news. I'd also been told about him. Apparently, he could manipulate fire, even though he couldn't manufacture it. I decided that we should get back on topic. "Anyway, those questions?"

"Right." She moved, a bit uncomfortably, to stand by my bed. She closed her eyes, her brow furrowed and her jaw taut. I realized that it was the exact same expression Kurt used whenever he was having trouble finding a way to word something. Her face smoothed out again. "Magneto found out a few months ago that he had twins, Wanda and Pietro, and that they were somewhere in the Western Hemisphere. He's spent all his time between then and our arrival looking for them. He needs Pietro rescued so that he can meet him, and get to know him. He has regrets. I have my share of regrets, remorse for past mistakes. That's why I'm here."

Oh. Okay. Well, that was certainly something. "So that's why you're here? You have regrets. I mean, that's it?"

She seemed to ignore that. "You also asked for my name."

"Huh." I thought back to a few hours earlier. "Yeah, I guess I kinda did." Technically.

"I wouldn't normally tell anyone this," she informed me pointedly. "They wouldn't usually think it all that important, but I have a feeling it will mean something to you." She looked me right in the eyes. The light outside my window hit her blue face in such a way that cast a shadow across her features and made her gold-yellow eyes look as though they were glowing, and for a fleeting second she looked almost _just_ like…

My breath caught in my throat. I felt like I might choke. _No. No way. There is no way! She can't be…_

Her voice soft, she said, "My name is Raven Darkholme."

Now every piece of this puzzle fell into place, and I understood.

* * *

_**A/N: **_And there's Chapter 19, _finally_. It's short, I know, but I hope you liked it; I hope you think it was well-written. I need that from you.

Sorry I sound so dull. I found out that my friend's father died this morning, so I'm a little bummed out. Keep her and her family in your prayers!


	20. Chapter 20

**20. FEAR**

Two days later, and I still couldn't believe the truth I'd learned. Mystique was Kurt's birth mother. I was able now to pick out those similarities which had pestered me so much. They had the same chin, their mouths had the same set on their faces and their eyes were the same shape. And, of course, he'd inherited her widow's peak. I supposed the rest of Kurt's features had to come from his father, though, whoever he was.

Mystique and I didn't speak of it again, but I knew that she knew what I'd gleaned from simply hearing her name. She went back to basically pretending I wasn't there. I didn't really mind.

Everyone else was slowly gaining confidence. Though, of course, they were not without their doubts.

I was on my way back upstairs from a solo Danger Room session when I ran into Wanda in the foyer. Her eyes were closed and she was pacing back and forth. "Hey, Wanda," I said, mostly just trying to get her attention. "What's up? Is something wrong?"

She opened her eyes and looked down at me. "What? Oh, no. Nothing's wrong." She stopped pacing.

I didn't exactly believe her. "Okay. Well, what's on your mind?"

"I'm just thinking…" She trailed off. I could tell that she was hedging a real answer.

"About?" I prodded. She probably thought that I was being obnoxious. I didn't actually care.

She heaved a deep sigh. "I'm worried about the state of the mission. What if they've killed Pietro already? And what if they've tortured him? What if they've tortured Kurt, too?"

Oh. _This _was her concern. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, feeling a little queasy at the mention of torture. "I don't know about Pietro," I said, weighing my words carefully. "But I don't think they've tortured Kurt. I would have felt it."

"Not necessarily," Wanda argued. A hurricane brewed in her blue eyes.

I patted her shoulder as comfortingly as I could. I didn't know if she was still having residual angst from learning that Magneto was her father or what, but allowing her to lose her temper was a stupid thing. "Wanda," I said gently. "You need to calm down, all right? You don't want all your sessions with Professor Xavier to go to waste, do you?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry."

I glanced at the stairs. "I'll leave you alone now, okay?"

"Okay." She nodded, and I took my leave.

* * *

"Kurt?" Emma looked through the window at Kurt, interrupting her talk with Remy and Laura. "You've hardly spoken since we left that room two days ago. What did Creed say to you that bothers you so much?"

Kurt didn't move from where he was curled up in a corner. "It's nothing," he said, working hard to keep his tone blasé. "Just another death threat. It's nothing," he repeated when Emma didn't look convinced. But she had been right—she needed no telepathic powers to read people well.

He couldn't believe what Creed had told him, and he didn't know how he felt about the whole thing, either. On the one hand, he knew now that he had some remnants of a biological family, including a half-brother. On the other hand, aforementioned half-brother was, frankly, an asshole. Kurt decided that he wasn't thrilled about that. He also came to the conclusion that he shouldn't tell the others about this information.

Remy lay down on his back and propped his feet up against the wall. "I don't know 'bout you guys," he said, "but I got me a serious case o' _ennui_. Anyone else got that?"

"_Oui,_" Kurt replied wearily.

"I do," said Emma.

"Yes," was Laura's response.

"Well, then, let's get rid of it!" Remy never took his eyes off of the ceiling. "We oughtta do _somethin_', _non_?"

Kurt shifted his position so that his right leg was stretched out in front of him. He leaned against the wall. "Like what?" He propped his elbow up on his left knee. "Count the bolts in the floor?" He started playing idly with his hair. He _really _needed a hairbrush; his curls were all tangled.

"No," Remy said disdainfully. "But we should at least talk about somethin'. Anythin' to get our minds offa this place."

After a moment of silence, Emma suggested, "We could talk about what we're going to do once we get out of here."

"I think I know what I wanna do." Remy's voice was thoughtful. "I think I'm gonna go with Kurt back to Xavier's school. See if they'll let me be an X-Man. If that's okay with you," he added, glancing at Kurt.

"Of course it is," Kurt said. It was nice that Remy had that impression of the X-Men.

"I'll probably go with you," Emma said quietly. "I would like to teach again. I may even try to find some of my former students, if any of them survived that attack. I feel so _guilty_." Her remorse showed plainly on her face. Her features smoothed, and she turned. "Laura?"

For a few seconds, Laura didn't make a sound. Then she said, "I…I do not know."

Kurt could hear her confliction. "You could always come with us," he told her. "You would be welcomed warmly at the mansion. We are all like one big family there."

Laura hesitated. "…I have never had a family. I will go with you, then, to the school." Her tone was much brighter.

Emma turned back to the window. "Kurt? What about you? Is there anything you want?"

Kurt contemplated this. What _did _he want at the moment? "I just want to live life the way I did before Pietro was taken," he answered. "Before all of this madness." _And I want to tell Elyon how I feel, _he thought. The idea of living in peace with Elyon was not an unappealing one.

He remembered their first meeting with astounding clarity, as though it had been only a few days ago, yet he felt like he'd known her for years. He recalled everything that had happened. He had been afraid and alarmed when the doors of his cathedral burst open, so he had teleported from the pipe organ to the rafters in order to see if he could get a better look at the intruders. He had been able to see that they were a pale, auburn-haired woman and a shorter woman with light brown hair and tanned skin, but that was all he could gather until he tried to 'port to his room.

Bella was obviously pretty, in a classical, delicate sort of way, but her companion had really caught Kurt's attention. Elyon's beauty was organic-looking and exotic to him, what with her copper-toned skin, long, pin-straight hair, pronounced cheekbones and large, slightly almond-shaped eyes. It was her eyes which stuck with him the most. Typically, dark eyes were unreadable, and while hers were just as mysterious, they were deep and filled with emotion, despite their solid onyx coloration. And then he had noticed the wounds on her arms, jagged and with nearly white scar tissue, a few of which didn't seem to have healed properly.

Later that night, he had the opportunity to learn a bit about her, and he found that the world had hardened her, made her tough like a rock. He could see, though, a vulnerability about her, and he became determined to crack open her shell and let the rest of the world see it, too.

Over the weeks, he had come to know her. He learned about her family and her past. He learned her view of the world. Most importantly, he learned about himself. And he eventually discovered that he had fallen in love with her, and that he had fallen hard. Now he was left, not pining for, but simply missing her.

A voice cut into his reverie. "Kurt? You okay, _mon ami_?"

"I am fine, Remy." Kurt offered a beatific smile. As an afterthought, he added, "You all will love the mansion."

"I'm sure we will," Emma said, and that was the end of that discussion.

* * *

Rogue and I picked up our pace as we walked down the second-floor hall to Peter's room. Scott wanted to do one last Danger Room session to prep us for tomorrow, and we had volunteered to fetch him. Rogue bet that he was in his room drawing. She knew him better than I did, so I figured she must be right.

I knocked on the door three times. "Peter? You in there?"

His muffled voice came through the door a second later. "Yes!"

"Can we come in?" I glanced up at Rogue as we waited for an answer.

"Yeah—yeah, come on in!" Peter sounded a little flustered, but not angry. I'd never heard him sound angry.

I opened the door, and Rogue and I entered. The large young man was standing beside his desk by the window. I noticed just how plain everything in the room was. It was fitting for such a simple, gentle-hearted soul.

"Scott wanted us to come get you," Rogue explained. "We're running the Danger Room in seven minutes." I saw that there was a sketchbook overturned on Peter's desk, so I went over to investigate. Carefully, I flipped it over to the page that he must have been working on.

The sketch was still a bit rough, but all the same it was an exact likeness of Kitty. Underneath the picture was a single word in Russian: _Катя_. "Peter," I gasped. "This is great!"

Peter and Rogue both turned to me. "It's not finished yet," Peter said sheepishly, as though that took away some of its quality.

"So?" I raised an eyebrow. "It's still awesome!"

"She's right, Petey," Rogue agreed, looking over my shoulder at the art. "It's beautiful. Looks just like her." She stepped back and started out into the hall. "Come on. We should get going."

As we headed to the elevator, I asked Peter, "Do you have any more sketches like that?"

"Portraits? No." Peter shook his head. "I mostly draw what I see—you know, landscapes and architecture. Stuff like that."

I would have patted his shoulder, but that was too high for me to reach, so I settled for his arm. "You got a real gift, kid," I said earnestly. "Loads of talent. You could go pretty far with that someday."

He blushed slightly in a surge of pride. "Thanks." We continued the trip to the lower levels in silence.

Once we were changed into our uniforms, we met up in the Danger Room with the other X-Men who were going on the mission. Cyclops stood in the center of the room.

"Today we'll be using a simulation of possible routes in the real F.O.H. headquarters," he announced. "There are the same dangers and precautions as in an actual battle. The squads you're assigned to will be the one you're in on the real mission, so remember them. Jubilee and Iceman, you're with Beast. Scarlet Witch, Cognitia and Magneto will go with Jean. Rogue, Angel, Sting and Mystique, you're going with Wolverine. Shadowcat and Colossus are with me. Does everyone have that?" We all nodded. "Now, our goal here is to find the main power generators and shut them down. I want you all to be quick and careful."

We grouped into our squads. Rogue seemed relieved not to be with Magneto again, but she wasn't especially happy about Mystique. All the same, she refrained from complaining.

The Danger Room faded away into an unfamiliar setting. "_Simulation: begin._"

The entrance hallway was large and spacious, but also infinitely boring. All the walls and floors were shiny chrome. There was no variety, no creativity, no nothing. _What a lovely paint job,_ I thought with biting sarcasm. It _was _good that it looked like the real Friends of Humanity headquarters, at least to the extent of the former rescue team's knowledge. We would need to move quickly tomorrow, and we wouldn't have time to get our bearings.

"Split up!" Cyclops ordered. "Find those generators and shut them down!"

We all headed off in separate directions. Wolverine started running down the hall to the right. Mystique and Angel followed him, and Rogue launched herself into the air to fly above them. I had to sprint just to keep up.

"There's one down here!" Wolverine said. "I remember seeing it before!"

As soon as he spoke, two agents rushed down the hall at us. _Two? Only two? Real smart, Danger Room. _Wolverine stabbed one of them in the chest without a word. Angel promptly beat the other one against a wall with his wings. We continued onward, unfazed.

"Where's the generator, Wolvie?" Rogue asked.

"At the end of the hall," Wolverine answered. "Shouldn't be long before—"

"_Look out!_" Rogue cried suddenly, swooping down to the ground in front of us. She darted forward just as an agent ran out from behind a corner. With a single punch from Rogue, the agent soared down the hall. We heard the low thud as he hit the wall at the other end.

Four more agents emerged from behind the same corner as the first. Wolverine once again unleashed his claws on one of them. Mystique knocked hers out with a swift roundhouse kick to the head. Angel delivered a series of hard hits to the one who tried to attack him.

When one of them made a dash for me, I slammed him against the ceiling and back onto the floor with telekinesis. I would have simply turned invisible, but the Danger Room viewed us through sensors, so I would have been seen anyway.

We moved forward with intent, not once looking back. We bumped into agents two more times, and in those instances Rogue and Wolverine acted as the muscle while Angel, Mystique and I handled the tactical dangers.

After a few minutes, we reached the end of the hall. The hologram Rogue had Megaton Punched was faded away by now. Before us was a huge metal cube. Wires protruded from it and connected to the walls. Electrical charges sparked around it, crackling like Dr. Frankenstein's life machine.

"Okay," I said, analyzing the intimidating generator. "How do we destroy this thing without getting electrocuted?" Wolverine had a metal-laced skeleton, so that was a terrible idea. Mystique, Angel and I were just as vulnerable to charges as anyone else. And Rogue…had superhuman durability. Duh. "Rogue, you think you can do it?"

"I can try." Rogue approached the generator cautiously. Electricity gravitated to her green, metal X belt buckle. Alarmed, she formed her right hand into a fist and struck it with great might.

The generator shattered. The scattered pieces of steel sparked for a few moments before fading away, pixel by pixel.

A voice intruded into our heads. _'Nice work,'_ Jean praised. _'Meet us in the entry hall so we can wait for the others.'_

Together, and with a new sense of unity and preparation, we headed back to our starting point.

* * *

Kurt awoke with a start, bolting upright on his cot. His breathing was heavy, his heart was racing and when he reached up to wipe his forehead, he found that it was coated in a thin sheen of cold sweat, as was the rest of him. Much to his annoyance, his tail was coiled strongly around his right calf, the way it tended to do when he was frightened and not keeping track of it; now it was wound so tightly that it almost cut off the circulation to his foot.

With a sigh, he released his leg and moved to perch at the end of the cot. He stared out the window at the night sky.

There was no way he would be able to go back to sleep. Not that it mattered, of course. All he really needed was two to three hours of sleep in order to be entirely rejuvenated. This partially nocturnal behavior was one of the reasons he was known as the Nightcrawler, and it was a part of his mutation that the inhibitor collar couldn't suppress. At least he hadn't disturbed the others.

This nightmare was far from being the worst he'd ever experienced. It was not as bad as those about him drifting, alone, carried along by the sometimes-violent current of a river, with the echoes of a woman's anguished sobs ringing in his ears. All the same, it was enough to jolt him out of the dream world and set his pulse accelerating, and although this wouldn't haunt him like the river-dreams, it still deserved to be considered.

As he gazed at the sky, he tried to control his breathing and his furiously pounding heart.

The dream had started out relatively pleasantly. The door of the cell was busted open, and there stood the X-Men with a freed Pietro. Emma and Laura climbed through the window while Kurt introduced them and Remy. Then he proceeded to truly greet all the others until he reached Elyon. He hugged her, felt her small frame pressed against him, heard her pretty musical laughter, smelled her wonderful scent, like Maplewood smoke and wildflowers. The next second, they all became mist and blew away, including Elyon. Graydon Creed sauntered up to him with that smug smirk. Everything went black, and he had woken up.

He remembered sitting with Elyon, trying to figure out the meaning of dreams. So what did this one signify? He couldn't fathom it. All he knew was that he wanted to be home.

The stars twinkled, winking at him. They were just balls of gas and flame, scientifically speaking. But they were also like little blinking lights of hope, refusing to fade.

So, with the bright hope beacons shining in the sky, he awaited the day.

* * *

Rain poured down from the sky in seemingly endless torrents. It hammered against the roof and obstructed all views of the outdoors. This was a common thing in Westchester, especially in North Salem, which was one of the reasons why I enjoyed spending time in the sun when I could. But this was a doozy. I couldn't help but wonder if this was an omen of the way the mission would go today.

Thunder rumbled as I stood by the large window in the common room. Normally there would be students in here sitting on the couch or loveseat watching television on the flat screen, or playing foosball, or using the three wooden tables with matching chairs to study, or reading a book from one of the two large bookcases. Today, however, I was alone.

I heard the soft padding of footsteps, and I turned to see a brown-haired boy with wide, innocent eyes and a cherub's face. I smiled at him. "Hey, Artie."

Artie Maddicks was a student at the school. At not-quite-twelve years old, his mutation had manifested a bit earlier than expected. Aside from his primary powers, he also had a blue lizard's forked tongue, which hindered his ability to speak. He wasn't always entirely mute, as he would make the occasional grunt or some other primal noise when he was frightened or sad. Of all the pupils here, I knew him to be a personal favorite of Kurt's, and I trusted that the feeling was mutual. There wasn't anybody at the mansion who didn't like Kurt.

"Was there something you wanted?" I asked.

Artie only moved to stand beside me and stared out the window.

I followed his gaze. "Yeah. That _is _a lot of rain, isn't it?"

The boy nodded. At that moment, an image was projected into my head. I saw the X-Jet flying in the cumulonimbus clouds, getting pummeled by rain and hail before being struck by lightning.

"Don't worry," I said. "Mr. Summers told me that Miss Munroe will clear the skies before we take off. And Dr. Grey will make sure that nothing hits the jet."

There was another image. The picture was a little unclear, so I knew that it was a question.

This time there were longhouses set up as a village in the middle of the forest. Men with black hair, shaven save for a long braid at the crown of the head, and wearing buckskin loincloths, leggings and knee boots were heading inside while women with long hair and wearing dresses held the bear hide curtains aside in the doorways. I actually saw myself among the hunters, though I was wearing women's clothes. Rain was falling down as hard as it was now, and in the background were the Smoky Mountains.

I chuckled at his impression of my homeland. "No, it doesn't rain a lot like this where I'm from."

He glanced up at me. Since he was so young, he was a few inches shorter than I. He projected yet another vision into my mind. I saw myself sitting on the sofa in the living room. It was so odd, seeing my face without it being flipped in a mirror. Kurt entered then, and when my vision-self laid her eyes on him, a heart-shaped flame appeared above her head. This was a statement.

A light blush colored my face. "Uh-huh."

The next picture was, again, of me and Kurt, only in this one we were both wearing our X-Men uniforms. We were holding each other as we stood in a ring of fire. It was a question.

"I hope so," I told Artie. "I really hope so." I looked at the clock. "Well, I guess I'd better go. See you later, Artie."

A four-leafed clover popped into my head.

"Thanks," I said. Then I turned and headed out into the hall.

I heard a voice as I walked by the staircase. "Elyon?" It was Danielle Moonstar, coming down the stairs and surprising me. She hadn't spoken to me since she got back from the first mission.

"Hi, Dani. What's up?" I stopped so that she could catch up to me.

She stood before me, looking sheepish and ashamed. "Before you go, I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry about what happened. I feel like if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have to do any of this. I'm so sorry." Her tone was sincere.

I blinked. Why was she apologizing? "It's okay, Dani. It's not your fault."

"I know. It's just that…I keep thinking that I'm not experienced enough and I'm not good enough with my powers…"

Ah, yes, I'd almost forgotten. Danielle was a formidable illusionist. Even though she thought of herself as inadequate, I knew that her gifts were to be reckoned with. "You don't have to feel bad," I said. "None of this is your fault. It's the F.O.H.'s and Graydon Creed's fault. They're the ones who picked a fight with us."

"Okay." She fidgeted, twiddling her thumbs and letting her eyes dart about the foyer. "Well, um, good luck, then."

I smiled, letting her know that I appreciated her talking to me, and that she didn't have to fret over this. "Thanks." With that, I went onward to the elevator.

When I got to the subbasement, the first thing I did was to get my uniform and change. Wanda and Bella changed at the same time I did, and we were the last to do so. As I put on the uniform, I attempted to steady the fluttering of my heart. _We can do this, _I thought. _We're gonna be fine. We're all gonna come out of this all right._

My reflection plainly showed what my physical response to all the anxiety was. The woman in the mirror had widened eyes, a tense jaw and a furrowed brow. Her muscles were rigid, and her chest heaved quickly with her too-fast breathing. There was light coloration on her cheeks from the fight-or-flight instinct she felt. I worked to hide these signs. I'd say that I did that decently, though there wasn't much I could do about my adrenaline flush.

I stepped out of the changing booth to join Bella and Wanda.

"Are you feeling okay?" Bella asked.

"Yeah," I lied. "I'm feeling great. I'm ready to go kick butt."

"What if something happens?" Wanda's voice was low and smooth.

I faced her. "Wanda, I told you that there's nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not scared!" What Wanda's vehement denial lacked in volume it made up for in intensity. "I'm only trying to be realistic. What happens if something goes wrong out there? What if we lose someone else? What if someone _dies_?" She looked to Bella. "I know you're a capable telepath. Will you be able to do what's necessary to win this?" She looked at me. "You say that Kurt's alive, and I believe you. But what will you do if he doesn't make it back?"

I was stunned into silence. She was right. Kurt might not make it home. I had never considered this alternative. I couldn't. My heart began to beat in aching throbs.

Fantastic. The last thing I needed was to go into a funk.

Bella seemed shocked by Wanda's forthrightness. Quietly, she reprimanded, "Wanda…!"

Wanda turned on her heel. "Come on. We should go." Her red cape flared out behind her as she strode to the hangar. Bella and I exchanged glances before following her.

In the hangar, we gathered with the other X-Men at the ramp of the Blackbird. We waited in solemn stillness for a moment, anticipating the voice of our mentor.

'_I must say,'_ Xavier said finally, _'I am very impressed with our new arrivals, as well as all of you. I trust you all to do well. Just as a father must eventually send his children into the world, so I must now send you. I ask of you but one thing: protect one another. Your teammates are your family. Make an effort to ensure their safety, no matter your personal feelings for them. I have confidence in you._

'_Now go, my X-Men, and come home safely.'_

* * *

_**A/N: **_Once again, I hope you liked this. Oh, and I know that all of this is long overdue, and I apologize.

Don't forget to review!


	21. Chapter 21

**21. WALLS**

I felt a surge of excitement run through my veins as I buckled myself into the seat on the Blackbird. I had never flown before.

I looked around the jet. It was around eighty-five feet in length. In the front was, of course, the cockpit, which had two seats for the copilots. It was here that Cyclops and Jean sat and operated the levers and buttons. Behind that were two columns of seats with two seats per row, enough for sixteen passengers. Further back were storage compartments, as well as even more seats for extra people and a cargo hold. The seats in front were streamlined and had buckles that crossed on both sides and fastened in the middle, while the seats in the back were blue rather than gray and had safety rails on either side. They also faced the ramp, whereas the front seats faced the windshield. The only windows, though, were at the cockpit, with two large windows in front of the stations and two smaller windows beside them. Since I was directly behind Cyclops, I could see out the small window on the plane's left side.

I heard a mechanical whirring. Cyclops pressed a button, and I felt the vibrations as the engines ignited. The plane began to rise, and my right leg shook in anticipation. I gazed out the window and saw us moving up from the hangar and out of the basketball court, which had moved aside to make room for us. The rain had stopped, and as we progressed higher I could see Ororo floating on air currents, her arms outstretched, her eyes glowing and her white hair whipping around her dark face.

The jet turned, and the front of the mansion was now within my line of sight. Quite a few students had gathered at the entrance to see us go. I smiled when I saw Artie Maddicks wave goodbye.

Jean shifted gears. Cyclops hit more buttons.

All at once, we were off, speeding through the air at what felt like a million miles a second.

I realized that this would give my three firsts in one day: my first X-Men mission, my first time flying and my first time going farther west than the Mississippi River.

"We're clear," Cyclops announced.

I looked over at the others. Rogue, who was sitting beside me in her black leather bomber jacket, alternated between pulled on her gloves and fiddling with the white streaks in her hair, having deliberately left them out of her ponytail. She glanced at me, attempted a confident smirk and resumed fidgeting.

Across the aisle, Jubilee, in her cheerful yellow trench coat, watched the world outside the windshield, popping her bubblegum impatiently. Beast conversed quietly with Jean, and every few seconds or so he would turn to Jubilee and say something, most likely how long it would be before we arrived at our destination.

Behind them, Shadowcat gripped the arm of her aisle seat, her eyes closed and her head lowered. Her lips were quivering just barely with silent whispers, and I supposed that she must have been praying. Beside her, Colossus held her other hand. His eyes never left her.

I peered around the back of my chair and saw Cognitia behind me. To her right was Wolverine. They didn't speak to one another verbally, but they would occasionally look at each other in the eyes, as though they were communicating without even telepathy. From between their seats, I could see Iceman and Angel behind them. They were quietly talking and laughing to themselves the way guys do, but there was tenseness underneath the surface of their banter.

Directly behind Shadowcat was the Scarlet Witch. Her lips were pursed and her brow was furrowed as she stared blankly into space with her arms crossed. She paused to toss her deep brown waves over her shoulder before continuing her brooding.

Magneto and Mystique had opted to sit in the very back. Now that I thought on it, this was a disappointment. I would have liked to see their reactions to all of this.

I swiveled my chair a bit and stared out the window to watch the country pass by below us.

The amount of time that went by before we reached the Rocky Mountains was unclear, but it seemed like mere minutes to me. The others were all amused by my delight when we flew over the Mississippi and my enchantment when the Rockies came into view.

The Blackbird landed with hardly a sound in a valley. Cyclops shut off the engines while Jean pressed another set of buttons.

"Cloaking shields are on," Jean told us. "Now we wait for nightfall."

We all unbuckled our seats. Rogue headed back to talk with Wolverine and Cognitia. Shadowcat and Colossus moved to chat with Iceman and Angel, and they were soon joined by Jubilee. Beast spoke with Cyclops and Jean. The Scarlet Witch sat unmoving, and I guessed that she wanted to be left alone.

I rose from my chair and slowly made my way back to the spare seats. To the right of the ramp was Mystique. Magneto was to the left. Cautiously, I went over and took a seat so that there was one place between me and Magneto.

To me, the stillness was very awkward, what with Magneto not even acknowledging my presence while Mystique eyed both of us like a hawk. Not to mention that Magneto had only ever addressed me directly all of twice.

"I'd like to know, child," Magneto said with his calm regality, ending the quiet. "What is it that draws you to Charles' dream?"

I was hesitant in giving an answer. "The idea of peace. Like there _is_ a way to reach equality. A future like that looks like paradise, especially for me. I'm tired of race wars." I turned my eyes to my knees.

After a moment, Magneto spoke again. "I've seen that you have also been scarred by pain and intolerance," he noted. "We are alike in that respect."

"What do you mean?" This time I looked up to see his face. His blue eyes stunned me. They had so many stories in them, about history and life, but there was also heartbreaking sorrow and tragedy.

He replied with understated earnest. "Years ago, when I was a boy, monstrous human beings stole my liberty, my dignity and my identity, and replaced them with captivity, humiliation and a serial number." I cocked my head a bit quizzically and squinted my eyes a little to indicate my confusion. In response, he removed his left glove and pulled back his sleeve to reveal his forearm. I couldn't quite make it out, but the prison number inked into his skin was evident.

Some overwhelming feeling pushed me into a reverent hush. I had never known, never even suspected…

He must have detected this, for he asked, "Do you always suppress your emotions so?"

"No," I said truthfully. "Only when they're very…potent."

"Do you hide them because you think they'll make you weak?" He was studying me, I could tell.

"No," I said again.

"Why, then?"

"Because I'm afraid," I admitted. "I'm afraid that my feelings will make me hurt someone. That I'll lose myself to anger."

The corners of his mouth turned up bemusedly. "Anger can strengthen you, you know."

Once again, I looked him directly in the eyes, and I told him the lesson I'd learned over the course of the last few months. "Faith can strengthen you, too."

Mystique rose abruptly to her feet and walked into the front portion of the aircraft.

My conversation with Magneto wasn't going anywhere now, so I got up, too, and went back to my seat near the front of the jet. After I sat down, Shadowcat approached me.

"Hey," she said. "Do you have a hair band I can use?"

I had two on my wrist, just in case something like this came about, so I gave her one of them. I could use the other as a spare. I held up the hair band for the girl. "Here you go, Kitty."

"Thanks." She pulled her hair into a ponytail and returned to her seat.

I leaned back. It would be a while before the sky became dark, so I closed my eyes and waited.

It didn't feel like a long time before someone gently touched my shoulder. "Hey, Elyon," Cognitia whispered. "Look outside!"

"Hmm?" I shook my head in order to clear it, opened my eyes and looked out the windshield. The sun was already lowering beyond the horizon. I must have dozed off.

"You're a quiet sleeper," Cognitia commented. "You don't move or make a single sound."

"Sorry," I mumbled as a blush came to my face. "I didn't sleep well last night." Actually, I hadn't slept at all.

"It's okay," Cognitia assured me. "I know. It's good that you got some shut-eye. You need all your strength and energy." She was occupying Rogue's seat, as I noticed now that I was fully awake. "We'll be heading out in a few minutes or so," she continued. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I said. _Just a few more minutes._

She scrutinized me for a moment. "Do you need something to hold your hair back so that it doesn't get in your face?"

"I'm fine; I've got a spare hair band." I removed my other hair band from my wrist and tied my hair into a low ponytail. We sat quietly for a minute or two.

I heard the soft thudding of shoes, and I turned to see Cyclops walk up the aisle to stand in front of all of us.

"Listen," he said. We became quiet. "I made my share of mistakes on this last rescue mission. I take full responsibility for them. But none of us can afford to make any mistakes here, period. One slip-up, one wrong move, and it's over. Now, I trust you all. I believe that you can do this. The Friends of Humanity won't know what hit them. Let's go and make things right."

We all stood. I stretched my legs. Then Jean lowered the ramp, and we went down into the valley.

I stared up at the rock facing that everyone else was looking at. I felt intimidated. It looked like a sheer drop. "Okay. What now?" I kept my voice at a whisper.

"They probably haven't had time to repair the door," Jean mused. "They might have agents guarding the entrance."

"Sting." I turned when Cyclops said my codename. "Go up there, see what they've got. Then give Jean the heads-up, and she and Cognitia will follow you." He gestured to the cliff.

I nodded. "Sure thing." I looked at the facing again. My stomach lurched. It really was a long way up. I wasn't certain if I could levitate myself that high. However, I could give myself a telekinetic boost. I made myself invisible and took a deep breath. Then I sprinted to the facing and pushed myself upward, literally running along the wall.

All of a sudden, I was aware that there was no more rock beneath my combat boots, so I propelled myself forward and landed gently at the top. The three agents standing in front of the large doorway in the side of the mountain didn't notice a thing.

_Jean?_

'_How many?'_

_Three._

'_Cognitia and I will be right up. When we get there, remove the helmet of the one on the far right. Okay?'_

_Okay._

Just a few seconds later, Jean and Cognitia were hovering in the air beside me. Before the agents could perceive them, I did what Jean had told me and telekinetically unclasped my agent's helmet and lifted it over his head. At the same time, the other two agents lost their helmets. Immediately after they realized this, they fell to the ground, unconscious.

We turned around to see the rest of the team making their way up to us, save for Cyclops and Mystique, whom Jean was lifting with her telekinesis. Wolverine was climbing the rock wall with the aid of his claws. Rogue flew up with Jubilee in her arms, setting her down when they landed in front of us. Magneto manipulated electromagnetic fields so that he floated to where we stood, and Colossus had entered his metal form in order to join him. Beast was able to climb the wall thanks to his notable agility. Shadowcat had phased into intangibility and now appeared to walk on air to the top. Angel propelled himself up with his wings. The Scarlet Witch made herself able to fly through a hex. Iceman created a frozen bridge and slid up to us.

Once we were all together, I grouped myself with Rogue, Wolverine, Angel and Mystique. "No goin' back now," Wolverine muttered.

"There was no going back when they decided to mess with us," I replied. It was only the truth.

Cyclops moved to stand in front of us, flanked by Beast and Jean. We waited in spine-tingling silence. Eagerness roiled within me like a tsunami wave, making my heart hammer against my ribcage. After what felt like an eternity, Cyclops gave the command.

"_Now!_" he shouted.

We darted forward with timing to rival Annie Oakley at a trap-shooting match. Rogue took a few steps and sprang into the air, flying near to us. I didn't have time to look around once we were inside, and frankly, I didn't really care. A quick glance around revealed that the others had all separated into their groups, too.

"This way!" Wolverine rounded a corner, the same bend we went around in the simulation. Rogue, Angel, Mystique and I followed closely behind him. I sprinted to run beside him.

"Are you getting anything?" I asked.

"No," he answered. "The most I smell is rubbing alcohol and disinfectant—hold on!" He stopped in his tracks. "Get behind this wall, now!" He pushed me into a shadowy enclave. Rogue landed on the floor, and she, Mystique and Angel huddled with us in the dark.

I could hear the shuffling of feet. Curious, I peered out. There was an agent meandering down the hall. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. The mere sight of him ignited an angry fire within me, and I found myself wanting to punch him in the face. I inched forward.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Wait," Rogue whispered.

But as he opened a door—a weapons closet, from what I saw—I couldn't hold myself back. I crept into the hall and removed his helmet with my mind, casting it into the closet. He grabbed his head in surprise. Before he turned around, I robbed him of his sight.

"What the—? I can't see!" he cried in distress.

"Well, you're a smart one," I said. My voice sounded strange to my ears: low, smooth and menacing. Were my mind clear, this would have troubled me. I became visible again and pushed him to the wall, restraining him. "Since you're so intelligent, I bet you can tell me something. Where is Kurt Wagner?"

"I—I don't know." His tone was frantic. I noticed that his nametag read, "Schultz." This could be useful, as I might need something to call him later.

My voice dropped to a volume that was almost a murmur. "Do you have any idea what I can do? I am a _very _dangerous mutant. _Lethal_, even." Schultz whimpered. I went on, "For instance, I could make you think that you were suffocating, and thus give up on breathing, if I would." I was sort of bluffing here, as I had never tried this, but he seemed to believe it. "Do you know how _painful_ suffocation can be? Do you want to make it so that I _would _do it?" He shook his head frenziedly. "Then I suggest you quit lying to me, Schultz." Now I was practically growling. "I'll ask you again. _Where is he_?"

"In cell seventy-five," Schultz blurted. "Near the back of the complex. Graydon oversaw the whole thing."

How strange. Schultz was the only Friend I'd met who didn't call him "the boss." I figured that Creed must have trusted him. "What do you mean?"

"He told me to make sure Wagner stayed alive," Schultz confessed.

"Why?"

"I can't say it," he blubbered. "I swear to God, he said he'd kill me if I told anyone."

"Sting." I recognized the soft voice as Angel's. "That's enough."

"Thanks, Schultz," I said to the agent. "I'll spare you for this." I sucker-punched him in the gut, bringing him down to my height, before locking my arms around his neck in a chokehold. He soon fell to the floor, passed out cold. Angel helped me to put him inside the closet, and I closed the door.

When I turned around, before me was Schultz. I was startled at first, but then the eyes flashed yellow for a brief second. Understanding must have shown on my face, for Mystique smirked.

"Sting, go invisible," she ordered. "Rogue and Angel, act drowsy. Wolverine…just act like yourself." We followed her directions, and I instantly knew what her plan was. She would, as Schultz, pretend she had captured Wolverine, Rogue and Angel, while I snuck along beside them. It was brilliant.

I read the numbers on the cells as we passed them. We were getting closer and closer to seventy-five.

It wasn't long before we encountered a tall, brunette man in a black suit. He walked with an arrogant swagger and air, and I decided that I didn't like him, whoever he was. "Ted," he greeted.

"Graydon," Mystique responded. I wondered how she knew that, even though it did explain why the man scared me. "I caught these three sneaking in. They tried to kill me, but I got them first."

"Well done, Ted," Creed commended. Already he made me feel ill.

"Thanks." Mystique was a most impressive actor. "Say, how's Wagner looking?"

Creed snorted. "I do not know; am I my brother's keeper?"

_Brother?_

"I guess you're right," Mystique chuckled. "He's filth compared to you." Even though I knew it was pretend, I hated hearing it. "I'll see you later, Graydon."

"Later, Ted." Creed walked on down the hall.

I moved quickly to Mystique's side when we were on our way. "What was he talking about?"

Her tone nearly soundless, she said, "Kurt wasn't my firstborn."

Oh God. No way. They just couldn't be half-brothers! Kurt was so completely wonderful. Creed was a psychologically disturbed monster. How on Earth was this possible?

"_Boozhoo!_"

We wheeled when the man spoke, and I lost concentration on my invisibility. The agent was simply an Indian man in his forties, and he carried no weapons. He looked harmless enough, so I answered, "_Si-yo__._"

"Ah!" A bright white smile adorned his brown face. "A friend from the South!"

"Depends," I said matter-of-factly. "Are you going to turn us in?"

"Are you the X-Men?" What an odd question! Just the same, I nodded. "Then of course not!"

Wolverine crossed his arms in front of his chest. "How can we trust you?"

"I'm a friend of Kurt's." The man's expression was full of honesty. "My name is Jim Clearwater," he added. "I can take you to Kurt, if you'll let me. He's been waiting for you this entire time. Just follow me!" He began to jog down the hallway. I exchanged glances with my comrades, and we started after him. Once again, I made myself invisible, if only to be safe.

Somehow, we managed not to run into anybody else. I was willing to bet that we had it a lot easier than the other X-Men.

At last, we reached a metal door with a label on it: "75." This was it. One problem, though—how were we supposed to get inside? I looked to the kindly agent, Jim, but he only shook his head. "They took my key this morning," he explained. "Said I wasn't fit to keep it."

"I'll handle it," Rogue announced. She approached the door and rapped on it. "Anyone in there?"

"Yeah," an unfamiliar male voice called. In my peripheral vision, I saw Mystique morph back to her natural state.

Rogue adjusted her stance, forming her right hand into a fist and cocking back her arm. "You better look out!"

The door gave where her fist made contact with it, and it ripped from the hinges with a screeching sound. It hit the back wall of the cell with a near-deafening crash. One look inside the cell made me think that I was sick of walls.

* * *

_**A/N: **_I hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter; I know that I enjoyed writing it. One of my favorite things to do was that little bit between Sting and Magneto, personally.

I'm still typing Chapters 22 and 23, and I'll probably have them posted later tonight. Cross your fingers!

Please review!


	22. Chapter 22

**22. SACRIFICE**

Upon stepping into the cramped cell, I was suddenly enveloped in what was, to me, a bear hug. "Elyon!"

"Kurt! Can't—breathe," I gasped. Although I was elated to hear his voice again, he really was making it a bit difficult to take in air.

"Sorry." Kurt loosened his grip, allowing me to return the embrace. "I knew you would come," he murmured.

I had missed this so much. His voice, his warm hugs, his scent, the way he said my name. I took in everything I could as I adjusted to the fact that we were together, and that I didn't have to worry anymore. Things felt _right_. Without meaning to, I found myself saying, "Thank God you're okay." I pulled back to look at him. I saw that he was wearing a white tank and red pants in place of his uniform, and his Rosary was around his neck along with some strange metal collar-like contraption. These were prisoner's clothes. Just then, my stomach rumbled at an embarrassing volume.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Have you eaten?"

"Not since breakfast," I admitted. He frowned disapprovingly.

I was vaguely aware of the others coming in behind me. Kurt seemed to remember something, and he stepped back from me. "Elyon, this is Remy LeBeau, also called Gambit."

I looked where he was gesturing. Standing there was a young man, about six feet tall, with chin-length brown hair and a bit of a tan. He, too, was wearing the clothing of a prisoner. He studied me with eerie red-and-black eyes before his mouth curved up in a half-smile. "_Bonjour__._" His voice was a suave baritone.

"Remy," Kurt went on, "this is Elyon Ryder, also known as Sting."

Remy held out his hand, and I shook it. "It's nice to meet you," I offered.

"Likewise," he said. "I've heard a lot about you." He pulled his hand back and rubbed it a little. "Got quite a grip there," he muttered. He had a thick Cajun accent.

Kurt turned and gestured to the others. "And this is Logan, called Wolverine, Warren Worthington—Angel, Mystique and Rogue."

Remy scanned each of them in turn. He stopped when he got to Rogue, who stood next to me. Then he smiled. "_Enchanté_." He took her gloved hand in his and kissed it. Rogue giggled.

Movement caught my eye, and I turned to see someone slide through the open space above the metal cot to my right. The ash-blonde woman was fair-skinned, tall and statuesque, with a gorgeous face and a perfect figure. She made the uniform red pants, white tank top and collar look like a fashion statement. Her straight hair fell to the middle of her back, and when she turned to look at me, I saw that she had cold blue eyes.

"You must be Elyon Ryder," she said. "I'm Emma Frost."

A young, dark-haired girl had just climbed through the window, also wearing the standard prison garb. She was only about five-foot-three or so, but with the exception of her more delicate build and features and her piercing green eyes, she was every inch a female version of Wolverine. "Are you Elyon?" she asked. I nodded. "I am Laura," she said. "You are very small."

"I get that a lot," I said. Well, it was nice to have met everyone. Now if Kurt and I could just grab a moment alone…

As if reading my mind, Kurt took my wrist and led me over to the back corner. He faced me and stared at me with his unearthly eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Kurt," I told him. "I'm more worried about you." I reached up to touch the bizarre collar around his neck. "What is this thing?"

"It's a power dampener," he said. "It has kept me from teleporting out of here."

I studied him intently. "Do you feel okay?" I knew that he looked to be in healthy condition, but I needed to know how he was feeling.

"I feel wonderful now that you're here." The undisguised honesty in his eyes made me bashful. He took both of my hands in his. "Elyon, I have so much to tell you."

Boldness overtook my caution. "I have things to tell you, too," I said. "_Tons._"

"Hey, Elf," Wolverine cut in, interrupting our exchange. "You want that collar off or what?"

Kurt heaved a sigh. "Of course, Logan." We went over to Wolverine, who popped out a single claw and proceeded to pick to lock on the power dampener. Laura, now collarless, stayed close by his side.

I leaned over to Wolverine and grumbled, "Moment killer."

Wolverine only shrugged.

I glanced over at Emma, whose collar had already removed. Her eyelids were shut as she held her hands up to her temples. Then she opened her eyes and turned to us. "As much as I'd love for us all to be properly acquainted," she said, "we're about to have company in a few moments. And this time, they're not armed with tranquilizers."

_Great,_ another telepath. _Just _what we needed.

"Then we need to find Pietro, get the things they stole and go," Angel determined.

I would have agreed with this, but then I remembered Kurt's note. "What about the others?"

"Creed is holding a few other mutants here," Kurt explained. "All of them are children." When Kurt mentioned Creed, I wondered if he knew about their connection.

"We know the way to them," Laura noted.

"And I can get your things for you," Jim added.

Wolverine looked to the four inmates. "Okay. You lead. We'll follow."

Kurt took my hand again, and we walked to the head of the group with Laura, Emma and Remy. "We might need a shield," he said.

"Let's go!" Remy ordered. With that, we bolted, dashing down the corridor with urgent speed.

I could feel my legs pumping, my heart racing, my lungs regulating themselves to the run. I saw the walls as we passed them, nothing but blurs. I heard our footsteps and the blood pounding in my ears. But I found it hard to believe that this was really happening. It was all so surreal…

Kurt tugged on my arm. "This way!" We stopped when we turned a corner.

_So many doors,_ I thought. At least all of these doors had windows. But could the prisoners truly all be children down here?

Remy began running down the left side of the hall, and I noticed that he touched each door in turn. Wolverine followed his lead, slashing the open keypads down the right side. I saw that Remy's doors were all ignited with purple sparks. Then they detonated, six miniature explosions, just as the doors on the right side swung open.

From each cell came a teenager. On the left were three brown-haired boys, a blond boy, a bespectacled African-American boy and a tall, muscular boy with a dark tan and rockslide-gray eyes. On the right side were another African-American young man (this one had dreadlocks), a pale girl with long black hair and a blindfold wrapped around her eyes, a red-haired girl with silver-colored metallic skin, a blue-haired Japanese girl and a boy with tanned skin and dark brown hair. The cell on the end was an anomaly, as from it emerged five identical blonde girls.

"Are these all of them?" I asked. "No more?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not as far as we can tell. Other than Pietro, of course." He watched as the children thanked Remy and Wolverine. "These poor kids," he murmured. "They never deserved this."

Affection swelled within me at hearing the words of his compassion. I wished that I had time to share it with him.

"_Hey, you! Stop right there!_" Kurt, Emma and I wheeled to see an agent wielding a rifle.

"Now is your chance for a demonstration," Kurt said to Emma. Then he jumped and ran along the wall on all fours. When the agent fired at him, he teleported with a puff of smoke and reappeared behind him. He grabbed him in a chokehold and held on until the agent passed out of consciousness.

Two more agents came down the hall to where their comrade lay. Without saying anything, they raised their guns. Before they could shoot, I formed a telekinetic shield and pushed it a few feet in front of me and Emma. Kurt teleported to stand beside us just as they opened fire.

The kids screamed, but soon stopped when they saw that the bullets weren't coming toward them. The ammunition bounced off of my shield like it was a trampoline. However, a barrier of this size took a lot of work, and I knew that I couldn't keep it up for long.

Kurt saw this, and he turned to the other mutants. "Get the children out of here!" he commanded. "Remy will take you to Pietro! We will catch up!"

"Rogue, you stay!" I called. "You're bulletproof!" I heard the shuffling of feet as the teens hurried away. Rogue moved to be with us, but so did someone else.

"Laura, you need to go!" Emma urged the young girl.

"No." Laura's tone was bluntly defiant. "I will stay with you and Kurt."

Emma's jaw went taut. "Fine. Well, I guess we should be ready." Instantly, her entire body, including her hair and eyes, became an opaque, crystalline, dimly luminescent substance, like a diamond. I found myself staring.

"I'll keep you from getting hit," Rogue said, drawing my attention from the diamond woman who was now moving to stand in front of Kurt.

At that moment, I lost my hold on the shield. Bullets ricocheted off of Emma and Rogue. Whenever they would hit Laura, they would be expelled from her flesh just as quickly and her skin would patch itself up. She was an even faster healer than Wolverine.

Kurt and Emma popped up on the other side of the fight, and Emma knocked out all of the agents with super strong punches. Then she became normal again, and Kurt teleported them back to us. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Emma said dismissively. "That wasn't my first time. My aunt had a friend like you."

"Really?" Kurt's expression was somewhat hopeful. "What was his name?"

"I don't know," Emma shrugged. "My aunt and he both always just called him 'A.'"

Rogue began walking down the hall again. "We should go." We all turned and followed her.

_Bang!_ Suddenly, there was a smarting, burning sensation on the outside of my left thigh. I could feel my skin ripping. I hissed in a breath as I started to fall.

Before I hit the floor, unmistakable muscular arms wrapped around me. "Elyon!" Kurt cried as he caught me. He set me down very gently. I heard a low thump, so I knew that Emma had taken out the shooter.

"I'm fine, Kurt." I winced and covered the afflicted area with my hand. "The bullet just grazed me. And we can always fix the leather."

He chuckled incredulously. "You've just been shot, and you're worried for the leather." He shook his head in disbelief. Carefully, he took my hand and moved it in order to inspect the wound. His brow furrowed and his eyes tightened. "You're bleeding." He took the hem of his shirt in his hands. I would have told him that it wasn't necessary, but he was already ripping it. He tenderly applied pressure to the area with his fingers, and I felt myself blush (_He's touching my leg,_ I thought). He bound the cloth around my leg snugly several times. "Too tight?"

"No," I said quickly. "It's, uh, it's good." To make certain it would stay put, he laid his perfectly-contoured hand on my thigh. My face must have been strawberry red. _Don't stop, _I pleaded in my mind. _Don't ever stop._

But now we had a mission to focus on. Our moment was over.

"Can you stand?" he queried. The answer was yes, but when I tried to put weight on my left leg, I nearly fell again. Kurt put his arm around me and gestured that I do the same. In this way, he acted as my support as he led us to Pietro. If ever I had doubted my feelings, the warmth in my heart was a confirmation that I loved him.

We soon met up with Wolverine, Angel, Mystique and the kids. There was also someone new with them. "Pietro!" I exclaimed.

Pietro looked unhealthy—malnourished, beaten up, the works—but he was blatantly happy to be free, with the exception of his collar. "Hey." He noticed my improvised bandage. "What happened?"

"A rifle happened," I said plainly.

Wolverine patted Pietro on the back. "Well, now that we've got what we came for, we oughtta beat it."

Emma starting striding in the direction from which we came. "This way. Follow me." We didn't have much of a choice, so we walked behind her. Actually, I limped, and Kurt was my crutch.

After a few seconds, Jim came running with a bundle of clothes in his arms. "I could only get Remy's jacket and cards, and Emma's clothes," he said, giving Remy a brown trench coat and a deck of cards while Emma got an all-white ensemble. "Oh, and Kurt, your whole uniform is intact."

"I'll take it," Angel volunteered, and Jim handed it to him.

"You can stay with us, Jim," Kurt said. "We will protect you."

Gratefully, Jim joined the crowd of teenagers, and we moved onward. Four hallways, three right turns and a left turn later, we ran into Beast, Jubilee, Iceman, Cyclops, Shadowcat and Colossus.

"You found 'em!" Jubilee cheered.

"Did you have any trouble?" Cyclops inquired.

I looked down at my leg. "Just a bit."

The others all followed my gaze. "What happened to your leg?" Colossus and Shadowcat gasped in unison.

Kurt's face was grim. "They shot her."

Iceman gritted his teeth. "That's it. They are _so _gonna pay."

"Now, Bobby," Beast said reassuringly. "Let's not conduct foolish actions. It's likely nothing grave, anyhow, otherwise she wouldn't be walking…for the most part."

"Exactly," I asserted. We rounded yet another corner, and I saw that we were once more in the entrance hall. I could see that, out in the open, the pouring rain from earlier today seemed to have followed us here, as now it gushed down violently. Thunder crashed somewhere nearby.

Four sets of footsteps came racing toward us. "Pietro!" the Scarlet Witch called. She met him with a thankful hug. Jean, Cognitia and Magneto joined us.

"Now that we're all together, we can go," Jean determined.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," a man's voice cut in. We all wheeled to see a familiar brown-haired man in a business suit. "You see," Creed sneered, "I always have a backup plan." He moved his hands from behind his back to reveal that he had in his possession an ornate crossbow. "Prepare to say goodbye."

There was a storm of pounding footsteps, and we were suddenly assaulted by a swarm of agents. And here I was, vulnerable.

"I have to defend Jim," Kurt said to me under his breath. "He could be killed if I do not. Will you be okay?"

"I think so," I answered. With that, he was gone.

It wasn't my decision now. I had to forget myself. _Don't think, just do. _It became a sort of disorganized system: Punch, block, push, undercut, strike, elbow. I avoided jumping and kicking at all costs. I reminded myself that this wasn't the Danger Room. One wrong move, one slip-up, and I could die.

There were so many, all trying to get me. One of them even nearly managed to beat me down, but I knocked him out before he got the chance. In a normal situation, I might not even have a shot here. But I didn't even consider that as I took them all on at once with telekinetically-enhanced blows. Some I literally threw to the ground. Others I pushed away from me violently with my psi-hands.

They were falling down around me. I was completely absorbed in the brawl, and I didn't pay any attention to what anyone else was doing.

I should have known that was a mistake.

* * *

Kurt observed the fight from behind the safe corner with Jim. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Sting, determination set in her exquisite face, had her back to Creed, who stood away from all of the chaos. She was fighting valiantly, even with that bullet wound in her leg. The next thing he registered infuriated him.

Creed was holding his crossbow at the ready, the same crossbow from the cabinet in the dark room where he had experimented on Laura. There was a single bolt in the stock. He was aiming at Sting, his finger hovering over the trigger.

_No!_ Kurt roared in his head. _Not my Elyon!_ His mind churned as he prepared instinctively to teleport.

Jim noticed his tensed muscles and his posture, like an animal poised to spring. "Kurt, what are you doing?"

Kurt didn't answer him, for at that moment, Creed pulled the trigger.

_Bamf!_

* * *

"_Sting!_" I whirled when the Scarlet Witch cried for me. What I saw nearly killed me.

Graydon Creed stood with his firearm. His crossbow held no bolts or quarrels. Kurt was between us. A single short, heavy arrow protruded from his back in a nauseating way. With a jolt, I realized that Creed had tried to shoot me, and Kurt had teleported between us at the last second. He had just saved my life.

With a glance over his shoulder at me, he fell, and my world caved in.

That small part of my brain which was still functioning caused adrenaline to pump through my veins, giving me the strength to run over to Kurt. I knelt on the floor by his side, helpless. "No." My voice rang clear in spite of what had just happened. I took his hand in mine.

He weakly held my hand up to his face. His face contorted in pain as the metal shaft, covered in blood, moved sideways out of him seemingly of its own accord. I turned to see Magneto, looking saddened as he pushed the weapon away from us.

I looked to Kurt and helped him to lie on his back. His focus seemed to be wavering. "Stay with me, Kurt," I ordered in vain. "Don't you leave me."

He reached up to caress my face. "Do not worry," he said, his voice raspy. He rolled over a bit to retch, but instead of bile, he coughed up blood.

I choked up, but no tears came.

He rolled back over. "I am so sorry, Elyon." His chest heaved up and down with his shallow breathing.

"No," I said again, the dreadful weight of hopelessness crashing down on me. "Please, Kurt. No." I put my hand over his heart. It was the only comfort I had right now. Grief began crushing me.

His golden eyes met mine one agonizing last time. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. Then his eyes closed and his chest started to settle.

My lungs felt like they couldn't get an adequate amount of oxygen. Carefully, I lowered the side of my head to rest it on his chest. I listened as he sighed his final breath. With a sickening thud, his heart stopped.

I stared straight ahead. I didn't see anything for a thousand yards. I didn't see my friends. I didn't see our allies. I didn't see the bastard who killed my universe.

There was nothing as I faded into numbness. No life, no pain.

Nothing.

* * *

_**A/N: **_OMG, gasps, twists, turns, wow! Well, I least I hope that you think so.

So, no, this is not "all of a sudden." I've had this planned out from the beginning. So, if you saw it coming, good for you; if not, well, I'm sorry.

So was it emotional enough? Did it tug your heartstrings? Did that fight sequence totally suck cheese? I need to know these things, so don't forget to review!


	23. Chapter 23

**23. SILENCE**

_I suddenly recollected that I was, in fact, sitting on top of him. Embarrassed, I scrambled off of him and sat on my knees beside him. He got up and seated himself in the same position in front of me. I lowered my eyes when I felt myself blush. What was I doing? Surely he'd figured it out by now. God, I was so stupid. So stupid and foolish and—_

_He reached out and gingerly touched my face. My breath caught in my throat and my pulse accelerated. I looked up to meet his eyes. My heart sputtered frantically._

_He got a look of adorable puzzlement upon the action. His eyes smoldered like warm, melted gold. His face flushed an odd, dark violet. It took me a moment to realize that he was blushing, too. It was kind of cute, now that I thought about it. It made him look vulnerable. And I most definitely liked the violet color._

oOo

_A rather amusing pursuit ensued, with him chasing me around to room in an attempt to catch me. He finally pinned me down on a stack of mats, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me down with him, so that he was behind me as we lay on our sides. He found my most sensitive spot—right in the center of my abdomen—and proceeded to tickle me till I was screaming with laughter._

_The whole thing was silly. It was unbecoming. It was childish. It was very fun._

oOo

_I sat up to look at him. Something about the way the light fell across his face, and the soft music and the luminescence of his eyes, made me want to kiss him. An unexpected rush of heat flashed across my skin. His lips were mere inches from mine. All I had to do was shift a little closer, and they would touch._

_Suddenly, I was aware of the actual scent of him. I had half-expected him to smell like brimstone, but this was not the case. He actually smelled very nice and fresh, even though I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. Pine? Or maple? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it smelled really good._

_Holding myself back was becoming more difficult by the millisecond, and it was probably showing on my face. What was I going to say to him? _

oOo

_"_Thesearms of mine, they are lonely, lonely and feeling blue._" Even as soon as we did the first motions, my heart started racing. At first I thought it was the adrenaline of adding a new element to the dance, but the more I pondered the lyrics, the more I saw that was not the case._

_"_And if you would let them hold you, oh, how grateful I will be!_"_ _An unexplainable joy filled me past the brim as we twirled, and when I held his face close to mine he smiled softly at me, and a blush flooded my face. Instead of embarrassment or annoyance, this blush was caused by a feeling I could not quite put my finger on._

_"_Come on, come on, please let them! Just be my little woman! Just be my lover!_"_ _We spun, and so did my head. I giggled inwardly at "little woman," since I was one. Somehow, I knew that I was not just getting into the moment._

_"_I need me somebody, somebody to treat me right. I need your arms, loving arms to hold me tight._"_ _He literally swept me off my feet, and my heart soared in my breast. We ended in a low dip and, for the first time, I was utterly speechless._

_He pulled me up so I was standing before hugging me and kissing my forehead. Unthinking pleasure swelled within me when his lips made contact with my skin. "That was fantastic," he whispered._

oOo

_He was right—his past was colorful. "You know, I used to think my life sucked," I said. "Now I realize that it's not me at all. It's just a crapsack world."_

_He laughed. "On the bright side, we have friends who want to help us make the world less of a crapsack."_

_I cracked up and had to work to catch my breath. I suddenly thought of something. "I never had any friends before I met you, Kurt," I confessed. "I just wanted you to know. And I wanted to thank you."_

_Kurt pulled me into a warm hug. "You're welcome," he said._

oOo

_As I sat there, holding the wounded demon-like man in my arms while he poured his sorrows out, something changed. It was like an earthquake ripped through my breast, tearing down my walls and causing my meticulously-built barriers to crumble, and I felt more connected to him than I ever had before with anyone. It was terrifying and uplifting at the same time._

_A little voice within me told me what was going on. Kurt had overcome all the obstacles, succeeded in his search and found a special place in my heart._

oOo

_"Did you…?" I trailed off, unsure if the question was appropriate._

_"Did I what?" We were in the den now, and he sat down on the couch. He invited me to sit beside him._

_"Did you ever consider getting the cure?" I regretted the question as soon as I voiced it._

_He thought about it. "I did," he said finally. "I decided it was not worth it. My mutation is too much part of me. And besides, if I had, perhaps, perhaps I never would have met you, and you would never be here, safe from harm."_

_I smiled at him. "Perhaps."_

_He returned the smile. "You do not need to be afraid anymore. The people here care about you."_

_"I know."_

_In a gesture of the comfort of a true friend, he took my hand in his._

oOo

_He stepped up to me. Then he took my right hand in his left._

_His skin was warm, and had no hair, like me. There was an oddly soft, sateen quality to it. When I touched him, it felt as though a small spark of electricity passed between us. It was a strange sensation, possibly because I'd never touched someone outside of my family in a friendly manner._

_We started on the first lesson. I had never suspected that I would enjoy spending time with a friend this much._

oOo

_I still didn't know what a Danger Room was, but I let Kurt lead me to it regardless._

_"That coat is really awesome," I commented._

_He gave me a skeptical look. "Really." It was more of a statement than a question._

_"Yup," I confirmed. "You look like you're about ready to kick some serious butt."_

_This was funny to him, for his mouth tugged upward at the corner in a half-smile. "_Danke._"_

_"You're welcome," I said._

_"Do you know how hard it is to find a grown-up woman who knows how to have a laugh, let alone an adult in any case?" He made a sharp right turn._

_For the first time, I actually considered just how stoic society had become. Nowadays, it seemed like any emotion other than envy was bad. "Pretty hard, I'd reckon."_

_His expression was a little saddened. "_Sehr schwer._"_

oOo

_I watched as he turned his Rosary over in his hands, and I sighed. "You know, Kurt…" My voice trailed off as I thought of the best way to word this._

"Ja?_" He turned back to me. Even_ _though we were sitting, I had to look_ _up at him._

_"I wish I could be like you," I confided. "No matter what it is that's happened to you, you still believe. I always wonder if God would have let those people hurt me." I rubbed my arms. "And yet…I can't help but feel like there _is_something out there."_

_His expression was solemn. "I know it can be hard, but do you know how I keep faith?"_

_I shook my head._

_He half-smiled. "No matter what it is that's happened—whether someone close has turned on me, or if I'm being chased by an angry mob with torches and pitchforks—I remind myself that I'm still here."_

* * *

Rogue, Shadowcat and Jubilee's horrified screams alerted Mystique that something had gone terribly wrong.

At first, she just saw Wolverine and the girl with claws, Laura, both going berserk, popping their claws on any agents who got too close, growling like animals. Beast was doing much the same thing, so different from when they were young. Iceman was freezing people on the spot. Cyclops didn't hesitate to unleash his optic blasts. Pietro was beating agents mercilessly. Remy was freely throwing card-bombs. The Scarlet Witch, Shadowcat, Jubilee, Rogue and the other teenagers were all huddled together, seemingly petrified. Jean, Cognitia and Emma were all attempting to calm the chaos, as was Angel.

It wasn't long before Mystique saw the cause of it all.

Kurt lay on the ground, Sting on top of him with a lifeless face, although she was alive. But Kurt…he was…

"Raven." Mystique turned to see a sorrowful Magneto.

This couldn't be happening. Not her son, not her baby boy. The baby boy she had so reluctantly abandoned, the one she wanted to keep, the one who had grown into such a fine young man.

Except that it was happening. Her son, her little baby Kurt, was dead.

She heard a low laugh, and she saw Graydon Creed standing with an empty crossbow, smirking contemptuously as he watched the scene. This was the one who had grown into a fiend, the Cain to Kurt's Abel. He had just killed his own brother.

An awful cry came from her tight throat, and she found herself rushing Creed. "_Monster!_"

* * *

Mystique's vicious shriek brought me forth from my stupor.

I saw her charge at Creed, a wordless screech tearing from her lips as she beat him down without mercy.

Then a couple of my nerves starting firing again, and I was able to sit up. I removed my right glove and pressed my hand to Kurt's scarred, blue face. His skin was cold and already had a chalky pallor.

"Kurt," I whispered. "Kurt, come on. Pull through this. Please. For me." I felt useless. "Don't leave me now. Come on!" My pleas were becoming my desperate, and I was choking on tearless sobs. "Don't give up now! We can't do this without you! _I _can't do this without you! I need you! _Please_, pull through! I can't live without you! I—I _love_ you, Kurt!" I combed through his curly, blue-black hair with my fingers. "I should have told you sooner." I lifted his head onto my lap. "I love you."

I kissed his clammy forehead, and I felt a hole rip through my chest when I realized that he would never respond.

I felt someone watching me. I turned to see the Scarlet Witch, who seemed torn. "Help me," I begged.

She shook her head. "I can't. I don't have any experience—"

"_Help me,_" I repeated half-manically. "Wanda, _please_!"

She sighed and moved to stand beside him. Silently, she held her hands out over him and closed her eyes. Her hands pulsed with red light, and he glowed, too.

Half a minute later, she stepped away. There were no signs of life.

I looked up to see Graydon Creed on all fours, cackling at me despite the fact that he was bruised and battered.

"How sad," Creed chuckled. "The demon is dead, and his little girlfriend is all alone."

A spark of anger ignited within me. I glared at him.

"Don't worry, kid," Creed went on. "You're a pretty thing. I'm sure you'll find somebody better."

"There will never be anyone as good as Kurt," I said firmly. "_Never._ You kill the best man in the world!" My rage fueled within me, catching fire like gasoline. "He was my best friend, and you _killed him_!"

The fire in me exploded, and I sent it through him with everything I had. I _wanted_ him to suffer. I _wanted _him to burn. I would make him pay for what he had done.

His anguished yells were like music to my ears, yet they only made me angrier. The sight of him writhing in agony was lovelier than any work of art, yet I didn't wish to view it. The blank look in his eyes should have satisfied me, but it failed to do so.

I knew exactly why. This was _wrong_. It wasn't me, or who I had longed to be. It was cruel and low, every bit as low as Creed had stooped himself. And it would have disappointed Kurt. The last one alone was enough to make me stop.

Creed gasped in order to catch his breath. "Why did you stop?" he rasped. "You could have proven me right. You could have proven…that you _are _a monster."

Kurt's words came rushing back to me. "I am _not _a monster," I said, "nor will I ever be. Do you know how I know?"

Creed said nothing.

I continued, "I am not ruthless. I do not act wrongly, and I wouldn't enjoy it even if I did. I have a conscience, and I have a soul. Monsters are soulless and like to do wrong." I remembered what Mystique had told me. "You are a murderer. You killed your own _brother_. And you're _glad _about it. _You _are the monster, not me. That's why I won't kill you. You're sick and pathetic and sad, and I pity you."

"Imp?" Wolverine now stood next to me.

I looked up. "Scott?"

Cyclops assessed the situation. "Wolverine, Beast, we'll take Creed to the Blackbird and deliver him to the authorities. He's the law's to deal with. Jean, if you'll stay here, help clean up?"

"Of course," Jean said quietly.

Cyclops went on, "We'll be back soon for…for everyone else."

While Cyclops, Wolverine and Beast did that, I looked to Kurt once again.

Still nothing. He was still dead.

Feeling unbearable sorrow, I curled up on his chest again. The numbness was coming back, and I resolved to let it make its conquest this time. _Please, God, help me, _I prayed. This was my only hope. _Nobody deserves this, especially not Kurt. Please give him back. Give me a sign…Is anyone even there?_

Just then, I heard something: _Thump. Thump. Thump, thump, thump-thump, thump-thump._ Someone gasped, and my head's support rose. I felt muscular arms wrap around me. It couldn't be. But—

"It's okay, _Liebling_," he murmured. "I'm here. I'm here."

I pulled back to look at him, dumbfounded. His wound was still there, but he was giving me a weak smile. He was really back. My Nightcrawler. My Kurt Wagner. He was alive and with me.

Filled with awe in the presence of such a feat, I wound my arms around him, buried my face against his shoulder and wept.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Ooh, I bet I really had you going there for a moment, didn't I? Huh? Even if I didn't, I hope you liked that resolution there.

And no, that was not just another pointless "comic-book death." Technically, it was a near-death experience. But either way, if I _do _end up giving you all the sequel, this whole incident will have major repercussions, possibly involving the teleporter previously addressed as 'A' and the Brimstone Dimension.

Be sure to tell me what you think in your reviews!


	24. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE—WALK****ÜRE**

We returned Jim to his home and family on the Fon du Lac Reservation in Minnesota. Of the children, four of the boys decided to go home, too, leaving us with Julian Keller, Noriko Ashida, Cessily Kincaid, the blind girl named Ruth Aldine, Brian Cruz, David Alleyne, Santo Vaccarro and the quintuplets, Celeste, Esme, Irma, Phoebe and Sophie Cuckoo. They accompanied us along with Remy, Emma and Laura back to the mansion.

On the trip back to the school, I sat by Kurt and tended to him as much as I could. Hank was able to use the first aid kit in order to patch up my leg properly.

Even though Wanda had mustered the concentration to revive Kurt (caused by the amazing judgment of God, of this I was now certain), he was still severely injured, and he'd needed extensive surgery. It was a good thing that Wanda had brought Jean back on accident, so that she and Hank could work on it together. Kurt had awoken from the anesthesia thirty minutes before I came to visit.

I knocked on the doorway of the medical bay, as there was no real door. Kurt's was the only currently-occupied bed. He was shirtless, but his torso was wrapped snugly in gauze.

"Hey," I said quietly.

He looked up at me. "Hello."

I limped over to his bed and seated myself in the chair beside it. "How are we doing?" I asked.

"All right," he said. "My chest hurts, but other than that, I'm fine." He grimaced a little.

I couldn't help but be pleased. But there were so many things on my mind. I decided to start with the first one. "Mystique…"

"I know. She was in here just a few minutes ago."

I could tell that he didn't want to discuss this, so I neglected to pursue it. Instead I focused on my newfound frustration with him. "Say, does your arm hurt?"

He looked confused. "No." I punched him hard on his left arm. He hissed in a breath and gave me a "what-the-heck-was-that-for" look.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I stared at him imploringly.

He sighed. "I would say that I wasn't but that would be a lie. The truth is, when I saw Creed aiming to kill you, I just thought…'Not her.'" He squeezed his eyes shut. "_Not her._" He opened his eyes again. "I suppose I could have done better, though. I'm an idiot."

"You _are _an idiot," I agreed. "But it's okay. You're the kind whose stupidity saves people. It saved me. So you're _my _idiot." I paused for a moment. "Kurt…do you remember anything of what happened? Anything at all?"

Understanding crossed his features. "Kind of. It's fuzzy, though. I remember…a tunnel. I was going down a long, dark tunnel, and there was a light at the end. It felt like I was floating toward it, and though it got bigger, it happened slowly, like I was just taking a stroll. Then Wanda appeared in front of me. She told me that I had to turn back. I asked her why, and she said that I wasn't finished here yet. She said that everyone needed me, that _you _needed me…She told me that she couldn't take me, and that I had to come back myself. And then there was a still, small voice, telling me that it wasn't my time, ordering me to return. That made it easy to turn my back and head in the opposite direction. And then…it was like waking up from a dream."

"Oh." So Wanda hadn't told him what I'd said. I was half-relieved and half-disappointed.

Kurt's bed was rather large for its kind, and when he saw my partially sad expression, he patted the spot on it next to him. It was relatively easy to hoist myself onto it. I sat beside him, my legs spread out in front of me.

He took my right hand. "Promise me something," he said. "Promise me that we will never be pulled apart again."

A mild confusion made itself at home in my brain. "I can't guarantee that. I mean, we're bound to be apart sometimes." I hated that, but it was true. "After all, we're two separate people."

"No," he disagreed. "Not two." Abruptly, he reached over, took my other wrist and pulled me on top of him, supporting my weight so that I didn't hurt his chest. "Now we are one."

Heat flooded my face, and I felt a little dizzy.

He noticed this and chuckled lightheartedly. "Oh, and guess what else?" he went on conversationally.

"What?" I queried, dazed.

Without warning, he rolled over so that he was on top of me, resting comfortably between my legs from his hips down. He leaned down and pressed the side of his face to mine. "I love you, too," he murmured. He pulled back to look at me, his expression so filled with true adoration and triumph that it took my breath away.

I knew that now was my moment, but how was I supposed to do this? I decided to wing it. No longer fearful, I gazed into his eyes, shifting my eyes to his lips as I placed my left hand at the back of his head. I licked my lips once, as they were dry from anticipation, and looked back into his eyes. Then I leaned in, closed my own eyes and gently kissed his mouth.

_Fireworks._

I pulled back after a couple seconds. I left an inch or so between us.

The look on Kurt's face was one of gratefulness, and he was smiling faintly with those unbelievably soft lips of his. "Wow." His voice was barely audible. He opened his eyes to stare at me.

I felt warm all over. "Pardon my enthusiasm."

There was a kind of passion reflected in his eyes, and he came closer to me. "I like your enthusiasm." He kissed me, and I inwardly exalted.

My God, this was so _incredible_. Everything—his mouth, his body, the way his hands felt running through my hair, on my face and my scars…I loved it all. It felt like defying gravity, like flying. It was the best I had ever felt. I twined my fingers into his hair as I lost myself in moving with him, breathing with him. I never wanted to let this moment go.

Then his muscles tensed and he broke the kiss, a pained expression on his face. "Carefully now, Elyon. Ow."

I flushed. "My bad." Slowly, he got off of me, and the heat subsided from my face. "Just so you know," I said, "I'm not sorry about that."

He smiled at me softly. "I'm not sorry, either." He lay down again, wrapping his arms around me and holding me against his side as he stroked my arm. He seemed very pleased. I knew that I was.

I reached up to touch his face. "I love you." I was glad that I didn't have to be afraid to say it anymore.

He looked at me fondly. "And I love you."

"How much?" I wondered. I scooted up so that our heads were at the same level, and I lay on my right side to see him better.

"I couldn't tell you that," he said simply. "I could say 'as much as there are stars in the sky,' but that amount isn't even close to being great enough to compare."

The sound of that appealed to me. I shifted so that I was on my back once more. "Enough to kiss me again?"

He propped himself up on his elbow and tenderly brought his lips to mine. I smiled under the kiss, and I felt him smiling, too.

We heard someone clearing his throat. We broke apart and looked to see Logan and Bella standing in the doorway. Logan's eyebrows were raised, and Bella' own chocolate brown orbs were wide.

I blushed furiously. "Oh. Hey, guys." _The downside of the infirmary not having a door._

Kurt glowered at them. "_Verlasst uns bitte__._" He resumed our kiss, and I practically melted into him.

"I would _love _to leave you two alone," Logan said. "Believe me."

Kurt glared daggers at the couple. "Why are you still here?" He was clearly annoyed. I didn't blame him.

"We have some Cerebro files on a new mutant," Bella said calmly. She'd regained her composure. "We need Elyon to take a look at them."

With a scowl, Kurt conceded. He went back to his original position, allowing me to get up. As I followed Bella and Logan out, I gave Kurt a little wave, but something didn't feel right.

We were halfway down the hall before I said, "Give me one second!" Then I sprinted (as well as I could) back to the infirmary.

I skidded to a halt by Kurt's bed. He looked up at me quizzically. "Elyon, what—"

I silenced him with a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll be right back."

He was glad to hear that. "And I'll be waiting," he promised. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Then I ran back down the hall. I had a job to do.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Aw, a sweet ending, right?

Well, just as I noted above, this is the conclusion. The story is finally over! At last, I have finished a story which is longer than twelve chapters! But please, hold your applause. I have one more question for you, and it's very serious.

So, do you all want the sequel, or do you want to come up with the rest in your wee little noggins? Be sure to tell me in your reviews!

_Auf Wiedersehen, meine Freunde!_


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